


Turn Your Heart Around Towards Me

by astrangerenters



Category: Arashi (Band), Japanese Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Getting Back Together, Japan, Light Angst, Reunions, Romance, Sexual Content, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 18:42:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 33,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3620277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrangerenters/pseuds/astrangerenters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some people had “the one who got away.” Shihori’s experience had differed. She’d been the one to get away, and he hadn’t lifted a finger to stop her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly inspired by Jane Austen's _Persuasion_.

The poor cat was already confined to his carrier, letting out pathetic little mewls in protest. The carrier would be the last thing added to the car for the road trip, and Shihori already knew she had five hours of whining cat to look forward to. While Keiko made her final anal retentive checks of the apartment (Are the plants watered? Are unnecessary things unplugged? Did I pack my allergy medication?) Shihori sat on the floor beside the carrier, sticking her finger through one of the air holes in the hard plastic top, letting Bill give it a sniff.

If it was up to Shihori, Keiko would just let the neighbor stop by to feed Bill and clean his litter box while they were gone. But instead the cat was coming with them because heaven forbid her roommate’s furry friend be left alone for an entire week. Cats were self-sufficient creatures, Shihori had long understood. Bill usually spent most days alone already while they were both at work. 

But Bill was Keiko’s cat, not Shihori’s, and thus his welfare was not hers to manage. 

She leaned forward, feeling the rough scratch of Bill’s tongue against her finger. “You’re just going to visit your grandparents,” Shihori reminded the animal. “Calm down.”

Talk about a pot and kettle situation. If anyone in the apartment at present ought to calm down it was Shihori herself. She’d tried to put up a tough, nearly indifferent front in Keiko’s presence. A visit to Minamichita, their hometown? No problem! 

What a liar she was.

They’d been living together in Tokyo together for nearly seven years now. Keiko went back home often enough since her parents still lived there, but Shihori had mostly been able to avoid the place. Her own parents had moved a few years back when her father got a new job closer to Nagoya. Minamichita was nowhere that Kanjiya Shihori really ever needed to be again.

But she’d be there for the coming week and the coming week only. Mao-chan was finally getting married, and unlike Keiko and Shihori, she’d never left. Shihori had initially planned to just take the train down for the wedding and leave, but Keiko wanted a longer visit. It had been ages since they’d seen Mao in person, although the three of them had been so close in high school. Theirs was mostly a Facebook kind of friendship these days, and it was usually Mao coming up to Tokyo for visits here and there when she could.

“She’s getting married,” Shihori had protested at first. “She’s not going to spend the week talking to us.”

“It’s been seven years,” Keiko had replied, seeing straight through her. “You should have just let me kill him when I had the chance.”

Bill had given up on her finger by now, and Keiko hoisted the cat carrier in one hand, holding her car keys in the other.

“Ready?”

Having no real protest beyond a lame “I just don’t wanna,” Shihori dutifully picked up her purse and followed her friend to the parking garage under their building.

This ought to be a happy day. She had time off work since the new school year hadn’t started yet. Time to relax and get out of the classroom, away from the annoying teenagers secretly texting each other with their phones under the desk while she tried to lecture them. And they were driving down for a wedding. Mao and the guy she’d been with since they’d finished high school were finally getting married. Shihori was happy for her, she really was. But even though it had been seven years, it was hard to shake Minamichita from her mind. 

It was hard to shake Ohno Satoshi from her mind.

—

Ohno was rather surprised that Mao-chan was still at work that morning. In just a few days, she’d be getting married. But she was still there with her friendly smile and coffee pot. She poured him a cup while he sat at his usual table, the one furthest back from the door with the best view of the pastry case.

“Getting nervous?” he asked.

“We got a call last night that our DJ is canceling because he just got admitted to the hospital with pneumonia. And I think there’s rain in the forecast,” she said, sounding rather calm.

“Not just rain,” came an annoyed voice from behind her. Her fiancé, Jun, tapped on the diner counter emphatically. “Typhoon.”

Mao just shrugged. “Typhoon huh? Impossible. It’s not even the right time of year.”

“You don’t know, they could upgrade it,” Jun whined.

Ohno took a sip from his cup. “That’s still kind of scary.”

“It _is_ scary,” Jun answered, crossing his arms. “Almost as scary as the thought of losing the deposit for the photographer. Most of the photo shoots we have planned are outdoors.”

She smiled. “A little rain’s not going to stop us.”

Jun, however, seemed to not be taking these developments in stride. He’d been grumpy since Ohno had come in the door of the Hug Diner that morning, and now Ohno knew why. The co-owners of the diner had been together for ages, and they’d finally saved up enough money for a nice wedding. They’d postponed it for years, having spent most of their income buying and remodeling the diner a few years back. Ohno knew that Mao didn’t really care about a fancy wedding, but for as long as Ohno had known Matsumoto Jun, he’d wanted to give his girlfriend the best of everything. A canceling DJ and a “typhoon” were bad news for someone like Jun, who had planned for the perfect wedding day.

While Jun continued with his complaints, grumbling about having to call one of his cousins last minute to beg them to DJ, Mao just leaned over, patting Ohno on the shoulder. “Did you find a tux rental yet, Oh-chan?”

He looked anywhere but at her. His cup and saucer were a good plan, for now. “Not really…”

The fact of the matter was that Ohno Satoshi hated conflict and confrontation. He’d decided almost as soon as he’d sent his confirmation that it had been a mistake. Jun and Mao had invited him because they were nice people and had asked a handful of their most loyal customers to join them. Their guest list was otherwise limited to family and close friends. And Ohno had learned that those “close friends” of course included her. Seven years was a long time, sure, but the last thing he wanted was for things to be awkward. It was best if he just wasn’t there. It was Jun and Mao’s day, and they already had rain to contend with. 

“I’ll ask my dad,” Mao said, completely ignoring Jun’s continued blathering about rain and deposits and DJs behind her. It was like they were married already, Ohno thought. The wedding ceremony was just the icing on the cake for them at this point, although Jun had insisted on the guests wearing formalwear. Ohno had never worn a tuxedo in his life, but apparently a regular old suit wouldn’t cut it for Jun. “He probably knows a local place in town that could get you a good deal.”

“I appreciate that, thanks,” he said, having another sip of his coffee. He’d come into the diner with six different excuses, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell Mao any of them. Maybe he’d have more courage tomorrow. But for now, he had to get to work.

He paid his bill and headed for the bus stop, eager to lose himself in work. At least that was something he was good at. But the bus ride to Everything Outdoor was a very long 43 minutes, and much as he wanted to think about rods and reels, his mind instead wandered back in time. To hot summer nights, soft skin, and the girl he should have treated so much better.

It was hard to shake Kanjiya Shihori from his mind.

—

Growing up, Shihori had never thought of Minamichita as small, but going to college in Nagoya and then moving to Tokyo had certainly shaken her of that notion. Their town was at the very southern tip of the Chita Peninsula, and she’d grown up with the smell of fish in the air. It was a town of maybe 20,000, surrounded on all sides by the sea. Her parents had both worked for a commercial fishery, her father in the business side of things and her mother in the processing plant in town. Their house had been only a five minute walk from the water. Keiko’s parents lived on the other side of town in a newer house not far from the hospital where Keiko’s father worked as a pediatrician.

Despite being obviously wealthier than most people in their town, Kitagawa-sensei and his wife were not snobby, and they had always welcomed Keiko’s friends warmly. When Keiko pulled her car into the drive, it wasn’t long before her mother came charging out of the house with her arms spread wide, ready to greet them. 

Shihori was happy to be out of the car and away from Bill’s whining. Keiko greeted her mother with nothing more than a nod, eager to pick up the cat carrier and hurry into the house so the cat could do his business with the privacy the car ride had not afforded him. Kitagawa-san offered a hug to Shihori instead, rubbing her back. Shihori knew the woman was used to her daughter’s devotion to her cat.

“Shii-chan, it’s been ages!”

“It really has,” she admitted, and she could hardly comprehend how quiet it was here. The Kitagawa house was a bit back from the road with nothing but flower fields beyond, and it was so much quieter than the neighborhood in Tokyo where she and Keiko lived. 

“Are you excited for the wedding?”

“Of course,” she said, hoping she sounded convincing. “Mao-chan and Jun-kun have been together forever. I’m very happy for her.”

“I’m sure it will be lovely,” Keiko’s mother said. “I’m certain you’re both tired from the trip. Let’s get you inside.”

It didn’t take long to settle in, and Shihori would be spending the next week in the bedroom Keiko’s younger brother had grown up in. Though he’d moved out a few years ago, there was still a “teenage boy” vibe to the place with bookshelves full of manga and sports memorabilia tacked up on the walls. If she had her way, she’d snuggle up with some of the manga and never leave the room. “Oh, guess I lost track of time. Too bad I missed the wedding!” she’d say. Fat chance.

They were meeting up with Mao tomorrow night for a catch-up session. There wasn’t really much to do in Minamichita, so when Keiko’s parents announced at dinner that they were in the middle of some spring cleaning, she volunteered to help. This in turn prompted a sigh from her friend, and now the two of them would spend most of the following day before their ladies night washing bedsheets and driving some things off to the recycling plant up the road.

Keiko was sprawled out on the floor of her childhood bedroom later that night, Bill curled up on the bed like he owned it. “I can’t believe you volunteered us to take my mom’s old fashion emergencies out of here.” In addition to the stacks of old medical journals Kitagawa-sensei was hoping to get rid of, Keiko’s mother had a few bags of clothes she wanted to donate to charity. They’d be cramming all of it in Keiko’s car come morning.

“You had better plans tomorrow?” Shihori asked her, lying on her side and hugging a pink fuzzy pillow.

“I was thinking of saying hello to Nino.”

Shihori’s grip on the pillow tightened a bit. “Oh.”

Keiko tilted her head, sighing at her. “I wasn’t going to make you come with me. Guess I’ll go another day.”

“You can still go,” Shihori mumbled. “What do I care?”

Ninomiya Kazunari had been their co-worker at Everything Outdoor, the camping and outdoor superstore that Keiko and Shihori had worked at after high school to help pay their way through Chukyo University. And of course, Nino wasn’t the only person who’d worked there with them.

“To answer your question, yeah, he’s still there,” Keiko said, a little too bluntly for Shihori’s liking. But then again, she expected nothing less from her best friend. 

She rolled onto her back, shoving the pillow under her head. Ohno Satoshi, the world’s least ambitious man. “Thirty-four and still works the retail job he’s had since high school…”

“Nino’s actually the manager there now,” Keiko said. “As for Oh-chan, I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

Keiko, who had spent the last seven years telling Shihori she’d made the right choice, could still call him “Oh-chan” with a straight face. “Well, when you go, tell Nino I said hi. And that I still haven’t forgotten that time he stole my yogurt from the break room fridge.”

“So petty,” Keiko replied, chuckling softly.

“I work with teenagers all day. They rub off on me in the worst way.”

While Shihori had finished university and gone straight into high school teaching, Keiko instead chose to be marginally happier in her career choices. She’d majored in communications and worked for a PR firm that represented some big name celebrity clients and agencies. The things her company had smoothed over were a source of endless entertainment. They’d both come a long way from the retail hell of Everything Outdoor, so why did Keiko need to go back there anyhow?

“Maybe he’s changed,” Keiko mused. Shihori wished they’d change the subject, but there was just something about being back home that turned Keiko into a nostalgic jerk. “Maybe he got uglier.”

“He wasn’t ugly,” Shihori replied, a little too quickly. Though Ohno Satoshi had never been Keiko’s type, he wasn’t ugly. He’d been a little short, small, too quiet for someone like Keiko, who had always been on the lookout for a bad boy to mess with back then. Shihori hadn’t been too interested at first either, but there had just been something about him. His laid-back attitude, his soft little smiles, his gentleness, the way only she could get him to laugh…

What the hell was she doing?

“I should get to bed,” she mumbled, slowly getting to her feet. She could feel Keiko’s eyes watching, teasing as she made her way out of the room.

She was almost 30 years old, and here she was reminiscing so fondly about the person who’d broken her heart so completely. She’d had boyfriends since - others who’d broken her heart and some where she’d been the one to call it off. But it had been the worst with Oh-chan, a hurt compounded all the more now that she was back in Minamichita. She was a walking cliche, hung up on her first love, her first heartbreak. Some people had “the one who got away.” Shihori’s experience had differed. She’d been the one to get away, and he hadn’t lifted a finger to stop her.

—

The guy had been staring at reels for the last forty-five minutes, but every time Ohno had walked past him, asking him if he needed help, he’d said no. He was in a suit, had probably ditched the office early for the day. People who fished as a hobby, they never needed this long. This guy was probably a newbie and too embarrassed to ask for help. 

People in Chita, they were surrounded by water. Most kids went out with their dads at least once or twice a year, if not more. Ohno’s father had worked at a soy sauce factory until retirement, but he’d instilled him with a passion for fishing from a young age. It was just one of those local things. So maybe this guy wasn’t local. But what was the shame in asking? 

Then again, who was Ohno to judge him for it? Ohno, who couldn’t even make up a decent excuse to skip a wedding. That morning he’d visited the Hug Diner once again, and this time Mao had happily handed over a business card for a tux rental place, and Ohno had already called in his order. He was going now, putting himself in the line of fire.

“I’m meeting up with Kei and Shii-chan tonight. You’ll be able to catch up at the wedding,” Mao had said while bringing him a plate of toast that morning. But then she’d realized what she’d said, waving her hand in front of her face as though it could dispel the awkwardness in the air. “They’re still living together, in Tokyo. The two of them.”

“Well, please say hello from me,” he’d said, just to be polite. Seven years, and people still walked on eggshells about it.

So now while the awkward salaryman picked up a Daiwa model, set it back, and then picked up another Daiwa reel, Ohno walked the aisles of his section lost in thought. There’d been women since Shihori, but none he’d ever call a serious relationship. Between the store and his own hobbies, he’d spent the last seven years maintaining his status quo, living as he pleased. Getting married, dating someone with the intent of getting married someday - that was something other people did. 

He just couldn’t imagine a woman being patient enough to be interested in him for the long term. He liked his space. He could use his days off from work to be out on the water from dawn to dusk or longer, and he didn’t have to worry about someone waiting for him to come home. He could sleep late, let his sheets go an extra week or two without a wash. “Your son is a confirmed bachelor,” his mother often complained to his father. “I’ll never see a grandchild from him.” And then Ohno’s dad would take him aside, awkwardly, and ask if he had a “five-year plan” for his future.

In five years, Ohno would be pushing forty. And if he played his cards right, he’d still be living simply, working to keep himself fed, indulging in his hobbies, avoiding anything that might be stressful. He just wanted to be happy. His definition of happiness seemed to differ from most other people’s.

He was just about to turn down the aisle with the indecisive customer once again when he heard Nino’s familiar voice coming close. He poked his head around the corner and saw him approaching the fishing zone of the store with a customer in tow. Although there was something about her that was super familiar, and once they were close, Ohno knew who it was.

She and Nino were laughing, and Ohno was impressed by how she was looking these days. For a while, all the guys at Everything Outdoor had wanted to ask Kitagawa Keiko out. She’d started working there fresh out of high school, had this mysterious aura around her. Shihori had always said it was a front, that her best friend wasn’t so mysterious. Unless a guy had a rock and roll look to him, a leather jacket kind of style, she wasn’t going to bite and would just remain aloof by default.

But the Keiko Ohno remembered with the long hair and trucker hats on her way out of the employee entrance at the end of the night was a real professional now. Her hair was shorter, her face thinner. Ohno didn’t know the first thing about women’s clothes, but she was definitely on a different level now from him and Nino. Ohno in his Everything Outdoor orange employee vest, Nino in the blue polo shirt and khaki pants of store manager.

Ohno couldn’t help looking just past Nino and Keiko, wondering if he ought to run and duck behind his counter in case she was here too. But as far as he could see, she wasn’t.

“Oh-chan!” Keiko cried, waving and offering one of the cheerful smiles that had sent many a male Everything Outdoor employee into a daze nearly a decade earlier. Ohno, of course, had been otherwise occupied.

“Kitagawa-san,” he said, walking up, seeing the grin crossing Nino’s face.

“Look who decided to grace us with her presence after so long,” Nino said. Though Nino wasn’t much taller than Ohno was, Ohno could see the way he had stopped his usual slouching to stand up straight, play the attentive host. Keiko had visited the store a few times the past couple years, dropping by whenever she was down to see her parents. Ohno just hadn’t been working those other times.

“I’m not a celebrity,” Keiko protested, adjusting the strap of her purse on her shoulder. 

“I’d wager that of all the people who used to work here, you’ve got the most interesting life by far now,” Nino replied.

“I write press releases, it’s not so glamorous.”

“More glamorous than peddling sneakers and kayaks,” Nino shot back, patting Ohno on the shoulder. “I know your secret now, Ohno-san.”

“Hmm?”

Keiko gave him a mocking sort of frown. “You didn’t even tell Nino you’re going to the wedding this weekend?”

Nino gave Ohno a punch in the shoulder. They’d worked together for years now, and even now that Nino was his superior, he could still behave like a kid. “Yeah, you didn’t tell me shit! I could have been your plus one.”

“You’re the last person anyone would want as a plus one,” Keiko teased.

Nino gasped in faux outrage. “What? I’m extremely charming!”

This made Keiko and Nino go into another silly argument, leaving Ohno to mostly stand there and watch as the two old friends teased one another. Ohno had the day off for the wedding, sure, but he hadn’t said anything about it. Mostly because he’d been planning to find a way out of attending. But now Nino knew and here was Keiko, who would obviously expect him to be there. And of course now he had his tux rental. He just had to hope that Mao-chan and Jun had been smart with the seating arrangements at the banquet hall. The last thing he needed was to be seated at the same table as Keiko and Shihori.

Eventually Nino and Keiko’s conversation turned back to the situation at hand. Nino had to get back to managing the store at some point, Ohno thought. “So since our celebrity has so graciously descended upon the area for the week,” Nino said, “I think we ought to all go out for a drink.”

“All?” Keiko sighed. “You’re the only two people who still work here that were here back then.”

“Not true!” Nino insisted. “Sometimes Morinaga-san comes in for shifts around the holidays to make some extra cash. We should give her a call and have her drop by for a beer. Bet she could put away more than you think!” Morinaga-san being the woman in her sixties who’d been a cashier ever since the store had opened. 

Keiko looked at Ohno rather shrewdly this time, none of the teasing cheerfulness she saved for Nino. “It would be fun to catch up,” she said, her voice a little colder. “Haven’t gotten to see you in a while, Oh-chan. You still live over by the car dealership?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then how about Thursday night? Is that awful izakaya still there, the one with that chatty old man owner?” Keiko asked.

“Under new management,” Nino said, grinning. “Though the new owner still won’t shut up. Must be a tradition. Food’s better though.”

“Thursday night then,” Keiko said, and Ohno knew that as long as Nino was standing there, he wouldn’t be able to wriggle his way out of these plans. 

“Bring Kanjiya,” Nino said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t seen her in forever, and she borrowed my Ghost in the Shell box set and didn’t give it back.”

“She has a similar claim on you and some yogurt,” Keiko shot back.

“Then tell her we can resolve it in person. Like adults. We’re all adults, aren’t we?” Nino raised an eyebrow, and much as Ohno wanted to give him a shove for meddling, he couldn’t exactly get physical with his boss. Nino didn’t know that Shihori was still a sore spot for him, mostly because Ohno had never said so. She’d never really come back like this, so Ohno hadn’t had to worry about it.

“I’ll ask her,” Keiko said, looking a little uncomfortable. Ohno knew exactly why. If seeing them at the wedding reception was bad, the four of them meeting up for drinks was even worse. Sure, they’d been apart longer than they’d ever been together, but the last thing Ohno wanted was to give Shihori any trouble. She deserved to be happy. He’d wanted that for her since day one.

Nino looked past Ohno’s shoulder. “Think your friend’s ready to buy. I’ll fill you in on the details later.”

Ohno turned, seeing that the customer had finally picked up one of the reels and was examining it closely. It was time for Ohno to swoop in and make the sale. Before he could say anything, Nino and Keiko were already walking away, heading for the escalator down to the ground floor of the store.

—

“Nino’s going to be there,” Keiko explained. “He really wants to see you.”

“He wants to see me because most girls won’t talk manga with him,” Shihori retorted. 

The taxi was taking them home from the restaurant where they’d met up with Mao-chan. Chatting had been far easier then, listening to Mao complain about all the little wedding details Jun was fussing over before talking about the strange customers they sometimes got at the Hug Diner. Every bit of happiness that Shihori had gotten out of seeing her friend again, listening to how excited she was to finally get married to the person she loved, had slipped away once they’d parted ways and Keiko had told Shihori about Thursday.

“This is your chance to show him what a gorgeous, perfect woman you are, and he can stew about how dumb he was for letting you go,” Keiko said. “This is your opportunity to shine!”

“I’ll accept gorgeous, but not perfect,” she mumbled as the taxi stopped for a red light.

“I’m not going to force you,” Keiko said, “but maybe it would be good for you. To see him, I mean. Everything ended so abruptly, and you never really got any closure. Maybe seeing him would let you close the door on that chapter. You can move on.”

She leaned her head back against the seat. “I don’t recall you getting a degree in psychology. Did I miss that?”

“You were together for almost four years,” Keiko reminded her, as if she needed to be. “I don’t like seeing you so upset about a person who was never worthy of you. I can’t even say ‘Minamichita’ without you making that face.”

Shihori looked at her friend. “What face?”

Keiko patted her leg. “The distant face. Your eyes get that faraway look, like you’re reliving the end of it over and over and wondering what might have been.”

“I don’t make any such face,” she protested, even though Keiko was probably right. You don’t live with someone for seven years (and know them for more than twenty) without them being able to see right through you. And much as Shihori didn’t like it, she really did let her memories take over sometimes.

It was usually after a break-up, after a rejection. She’d compare it to how it had felt when she’d lost Oh-chan, and she’d feel better about the break-up because nothing could feel as bad as that had. But then again, Shihori knew she’d never let anyone else get so close ever since. She knew she would, someday. She just needed to be absolutely certain. Absolutely positive they wouldn’t hurt her as badly as he had.

The taxi let them off at the house, and Keiko’s mother had stayed up waiting for them, making some tea as a means of getting the girls to cough up all the details about Mao’s wedding. Since Keiko hadn’t found “the one” yet (and wasn’t really in much of a hurry to do so), Kitagawa-san seemed to enjoy getting her wedding and baby fix wherever she could. Shihori was kind of glad her own mother wasn’t so insistent.

Then again, Shihori’s mother had adored Oh-chan.

Eventually the wedding talk devolved into more Kitagawa family spring cleaning talk, and this time Keiko told her mother no. “I spent all day going through Papa’s dusty journals. Have Kenji do it when he comes home.”

“Your brother will be here next week to help Papa do some work in the kitchen,” Keiko’s mother replied. 

“I’m going to the school tomorrow,” Keiko protested, sounding more like a teenager than a woman grown. “I’m supposed to meet up with Hara-sensei. I haven’t been able to talk with her the last few times I’ve been here.”

“I could do it,” Shihori said. Unlike Keiko, the suck-up student who enjoyed meeting up with her old high school teachers, the last place Shihori wanted to be this week was inside a school. “I’ll take Kei-chan’s car, I’ll get the rest of them recycled.”

“Well thank you, that would be wonderful. We’ll finally get that room cleared out.”

Come morning, Keiko slept in while Shihori helped get the rest of Kitagawa-sensei’s journals into Keiko’s car. How one man had this many back issues at the house, she’d never understand. Neither could his wife. “It’s all on the computer now, these journals. Don’t marry a doctor, Shii-chan, no matter how glamorous they tell you it’ll be. I can’t even imagine what his office looks like at the hospital, this pack rat man I married.”

She smiled, closing the hatchback of Keiko’s car. She’d made up a lame excuse, that she’d be heading to the outlet mall by Nagashima Spa Land, but she had other plans. As soon as she dropped off Kitagawa-sensei’s journals, she only drove a few miles away.

It was something people in her high school had done for years, and she’d never actually imagined finding a guy willing to indulge her in something so silly. But Oh-chan had said sure. Sometimes, whether Shihori was in Tokyo or anywhere else, she was here. Here on that day when she was silly and hopeful and twenty-two, and they’d taken the bus over here on a whim. 

Noma Lighthouse in Mihama was the oldest lighthouse in Aichi, a brightly painted white beacon along the shore. The lighthouse had always been surrounded by a steel fence, burdened with the weight of hundreds of padlocks. If you and your significant other attached a lock of your own to the fence at Noma Lighthouse, your love would prosper forever. By the time Shihori had finished high school, the fence had managed to collapse several times. They’d put it back up, if only because people were superstitious. A local shrine built another section for padlocks, just to distribute them more evenly, but some feared that if you didn’t attach yours to the original fence, it was good for nothing.

On the bus ride, Oh-chan had used a pocket knife to carve the kanji of their surnames into the back of the lock. It had been one of the cheaper locks, a neon pink one that they’d picked out at work. The both of them being thrifty types, it had been easy to just use their employee discounts and get the thing for next to nothing. It wasn’t the lock itself so much as the feelings it carried. 

As she parked Keiko’s car, walking up the gravel path to the lighthouse, she could so easily remember sitting by his side as the bus bumped along the road that day. His hands had always been steady, so sure, and over the course of the ride he’d managed the two characters for “Ohno” and the three for “Kanjiya” with remarkable precision. But he’d always been humble, holding it up for her inspection. “Will this work, Shii-chan?”

She had a cutting tool, something she’d found in the gardening shed on the Kitagawa family’s property. It was in the back of Keiko’s car, if she needed it. It was a weekday afternoon, and nobody was visiting today. She spent the next hour walking past the locks, looking for something pink. She’d known the place where they’d attached it years back, but with the fence falling and getting put back up so often, she figured it might have moved.

It wasn’t very pink any longer when Shihori did manage to find it, maybe a foot and a half off the ground, the small lock that they’d stuck in between a few larger ones. The weather had worn off most of the color after all these years. Oh-chan had been the one to choose the spot, to attach it. “Don’t need it to be in a prominent spot,” he’d argued. “It’s best to stay out of the limelight, nobody will be tempted to steal it.”

“Do you believe it’s true?” she remembered asking him that day. It had been windy, and there was no romantic sense to it at all. They were both bundled up in hooded sweatshirts, faces red and tingling from the cold air, the scent of the sea so close by. Their tiny pink lock attached with little fanfare. “Do you think it really strengthens love?”

“I’m not so sure,” he’d said, shrugging in his usual casual manner. “But it can’t hurt.”

She’d crouched down, taken a picture of it with her old green phone. When she got up, he’d pushed back the hood of her sweatshirt the slightest bit, had given her a sweet little kiss. 

“It would be nice,” he’d said, “very nice if it’s true.”

Today, in the present, Shihori let her fingers drift across it, the wind blowing her hair around. She should have worn a heavier coat. She lifted it up even though she was shivering, finding “Ohno” and “Kanjiya,” unchanged over the years. Steadfast in a way the lighthouse fence was not. 

She’d thought about this for years, coming down here and cutting the lock off. Clearing a space for a hopeful couple, getting rid of something that had been a failure. The lock had only added to the fence’s weight. It wasn’t a miracle worker. All those years she’d dreamed of cutting it off, flinging it into the sea in a dramatic gesture. “Good riddance!” she’d imagined herself saying. It would be super empowering, destroying the last tie to that part of her life when she was naive and lovesick.

But as she ran her thumb across the back of the lock, her nail scraping along the little grooves Oh-chan had cut with his knife, she knew she couldn’t do it. She was far stronger in thought than she’d ever be in action. Maybe it was better to just see him, to remind herself of all the things that didn’t work and why her decision stuck so easily. She’d see him and remember how he’d allowed her to walk away. Seeing that, his indifference, would give her the courage to move on that cutting a stupid lock couldn’t.

Shihori got to her feet, walking away. She made it ten feet before turning back, and already the abundance of locks on the Noma Lighthouse fence had hidden it away again, the hope of the Shihori she used to be and refused to be ever again.

—

Stubborn was a word that people had used to describe Ohno Satoshi for as long as he could remember. His kindergarten teacher had used it when describing his progress to his mother. “Satoshi-chan doesn’t like sharing the crayons with his classmates. And he is very stubborn about stopping art time for the day. He needs to become more flexible.”

It was a word that followed him to junior high, a word that made him drop out of high school early. “Ohno-kun doesn’t seem to care about his poor grades. When we’ve offered him additional tutoring opportunities, he has stubbornly refused. Doesn’t Ohno-kun care about his future?”

Much as his parents had been disappointed in some of his choices, he’d refused to feel bad about them. The choices he made were his own. If that made him stubborn, that was fine. If that made him selfish, that was fine too. He didn’t set out every morning to please everyone else. He just wanted to live the way he liked. 

The only time he’d really compromised on that vision was when it came to her. She’d been younger than him, about five years, and at first when she’d been working at Everything Outdoor, she’d called him “senpai” because she thought it was something he was owed. Nobody had ever treated him that way before, as a senior in life with wisdom to impart.

Not that there was a lot of wisdom involved in selling people lures, but she’d been amused by him in a way that most women had never been. Most women Ohno had been with wanted flowers and well-planned dates and for the tiniest moments to be remembered. They’d been working side by side in the fishing zone for six months when things blossomed, and she told him it was enough to just be around each other.

Because she didn’t ask for anything, he found himself wanting to surprise her. He’d never had a lot of money, but sometimes he’d buy her some manga, just to see her smile. If he was out drinking with friends, he’d call and tell her to drop by after he got home from the bar. Not just for sex or anything, but because when he got drunk he liked to cook. And cooking for someone besides himself kind of felt good.

He’d allowed himself to grow complacent with this. The Shihori who hadn’t expected too much from him at first had every right to be a bit concerned about where things were going after four years of it. He’d been naive, assuming that she was like him, fine with things the way they were. But she’d finished university, had her teaching certificate. 

Unlike Ohno, who was fine with how things were, Shihori was ready for the next step of her life to begin. Keiko had gotten a job in Tokyo, had asked Shihori to come with her. “No,” Shihori had told Keiko, “I won’t go without Oh-chan.”

There were a lot of things that got fuzzy in Ohno’s memory. People’s faces if he didn’t see them for a long time, trickier kanji he’d learned. But the day they broke up was one he’d been unable to forget. At the time, he thought he’d been making the right call, allowing her to define what her happiness was, to make her own choices. Wasn’t that what women wanted? He thought back on the words he said and kicked himself.

“It’s been four years, and I can’t make a big decision like this about our future without you,” she’d said so calmly. “If you don’t want me to go, I won’t.”

“Would Tokyo make you happy? You should do what makes you happy, Shii-chan. I’ll support you.”

“ _You_ make me happy,” she’d said back almost instantly. “If I stay here or if you come there with me, maybe we could…” He could still remember how she’d blushed, looking away from him. “…maybe we could get serious for once.”

“Serious how?”

She’d turned even redder, something he’d always adored about her. “Serious like…married.”

In that moment, he’d realized that he’d never even thought about it, getting married. He’d loved her, with his whole heart, but Ohno had always been a status quo type of person. Marriage meant a mortgage and a retirement plan and kids and all the money that kids cost and all of that. There was no going back. And because he’d let her words frighten him, he’d said the worst thing he possibly could have. Sticking out his chin and letting the stubbornness in him rise to the surface.

“But I don’t want to marry you.”

She’d cried, and he hated seeing it so he’d tried to take it back, saying he just didn’t know what he wanted, making it worse by saying stupid shit like “if you want to move, you should move, don’t worry what I think” when it was his opinion that mattered the absolute most to her. He’d been too cold, way too cold for someone who’d said the words “I love you” and not really understood how deeply she loved him in return. And what she expected after four years together.

He only saw her one time after that. She’d brought a box of his stuff to work, leaving it in the break room, neutral territory. She’d never set foot in his apartment again. And when their co-workers, their mutual friends, told him he ought to call her, ought to apologize, he was stubborn. He was just holding her back. She should do what she wants, he explained, go teach in Tokyo, have fun with Keiko. The break was sudden and abrupt and maybe even cruel, but he stood by his decision. And as far as he knew, she’d been successful in Tokyo. It had been seven years, and she’d always been easy to like. She was probably just fine, had found someone who would treat her right.

He just hadn’t forgotten it, going on dates here and there, never committing one way or another. Never letting someone think he was going to miraculously change overnight. The last thing he wanted was to lead someone on, make false promises. 

But now here he was, leaving his apartment building in his coat and walking past the auto lot that separated the block of buildings he lived in from the cluster of bars, izakayas, and restaurants down the street. It was the only part of Minamichita that really lit up at night. Because so many people worked in the fishing industry, they trailed out early in the evening so they could wake for the morning’s catch. By now the places were starting to empty out.

The place had been called Jumbo Snack for the longest time, but a few years back, the old man running the place had retired. A guy from Chiba, a nephew or grand-nephew or something, had come down to take over. Jumbo Snack had become Peking Duck. Not that Aiba-san served Peking duck. His parents ran a Chinese restaurant back home, and he named the place in their honor.

He moved the cloth banner at the entrance to duck inside, sliding the door open. “Welcome! Ah, Oh-chan!” came Aiba-san’s raspy voice. He was tall, kind of a beanpole type, and he waved like a little kid. He always wore a t-shirt and jeans, lending the place a casual, relaxed air. The lights were a little dim, but there was track lighting running along the walls, illuminating the dozens of yellow rubber ducks Aiba had placed on little shelving units all over the izakaya.

Ohno found Nino at the table he preferred, the one furthest from the chatty owner and his tendency to turn on his karaoke machine and sing in between drinks until closing time. Ohno slid out of his sneakers as he approached their table, stepping up onto the tatami mats that surrounded the low table. Nino was sitting cross-legged, munching on a massive bowl of edamame. 

“Looks good,” Ohno said, looking over as Aiba started pouring Ohno a few shot glasses of tequila without being prompted. “What did he do this time?”

Nino smiled. “No experiments this time, I told him I wouldn’t pay if he tried anything. Just salt.”

Aiba-san liked to add “spice” and change up his menu from time to time, adding unnecessary ingredients or toppings. Ohno was a very tolerant and patient eater and was usually willing to give most things a try. Nino, however, was picky and spent a lot of time at Peking Duck complaining about the “shitty” service and “shittier” food. Although Ohno knew that Aiba was one of Nino’s favorite people for the same reasons.

Ohno settled in, taking a seat in the corner beside Nino so that neither Keiko or Shihori would have to sit next to him. He’d been on edge all day, wondering if she was going to come at all. Ohno almost wanted her to walk in the door, show off a huge diamond ring on her left hand, slap him, and leave. But Ohno had picked up a nasty habit of watching soap operas lately. It was giving him a wild imagination.

Aiba approached, settling a flight of shot glasses before him and offering him a hot towel for his hands. “For your starter, sir.”

“Thank you, my good man,” Ohno teased, plucking a piece of edamame from the bowl. “Kirin when I finish these.”

“Anything else I can get you?”

“As I said already,” Nino interrupted, “we have ladies coming. So if you have any ladies night specials, be sure to charge us that price.”

“Such a cheapskate,” Aiba said bluntly, scoffing. “Ladies night specials.”

Nino offered a rude gesture in reply, which made Aiba laugh before heading to another table to get their order. “Ah, this is the life, Ohno-san.”

Ohno usually spaced out his shots, but when he tossed the next empty edamame pod in the dish, he downed two in a row. Nino watched him the whole time.

“What am I missing here?” Nino asked.

Ohno let the blessed burn of the tequila keep him from answering, instead just shrugging and going for more of the edamame. He was just lifting the third shot to his lips when the door slid open again.

—

Jumbo Snack had undergone a makeover, if the assortment of rubber duckies decorating every nook and cranny of the place was any indication. Shihori was happy for something to change focus to instead of dwelling on what she looked like. She had spent half an hour figuring out what to wear since she hadn’t exactly planned on meeting up with any men on this trip. Especially when half of the party she was meeting was an ex-boyfriend.

Though Keiko had worn a nice top and a skirt under her peacoat, Shihori had gone with a long t-shirt and leggings, putting her hair in a simple ponytail. Why pretend to be something she wasn’t? A lanky guy with a huge smile came bounding over as soon as they came in the door.

“Welcome to Peking Duck, could I get your coats for you?”

“No, thank you,” Keiko said just in time for the familiar voice of Ninomiya Kazunari to pierce the air. He’d always been loud, at least whenever they’d gone out as a group. 

“Oi! Back here, Kanjiya!”

Keiko rolled her eyes before addressing the bar master. “I’m driving home tonight, do you have any chuhai? More sugar than alcohol?”

“Lime? Peach? Yuzu?”

“Peach,” Keiko said.

“And for you, miss?” smily bar master asked while Shihori fiddled with the zipper of her jacket.

“Kanjiya!” Nino shouted obnoxiously, though nobody else in the place seemed all too bothered by it.

“The same,” she mumbled, following Keiko to the table, trying to focus on breathing. Even though she met Nino’s friendly gaze first, it was impossible not to look to his side. Seeing him was so much worse than she’d even anticipated, shredding tissue in the car with her fingers on the way over.

It was Ohno Satoshi, and seven years hadn’t altered much about a person who was so insistent on never changing. He was still tanned, his usual hours out on the water reflected in the slightly roughened look to his skin. His hair was the same, black and with a little bit of product in it to push his fringe off his forehead, spiking it up. His face was still round and youthful with his “I’ve just woken up” eyes. He stared at her almost blankly, probably calculating whether it was appropriate or not to offer a smile. Thirty-four years old and still sitting a bit hunched over and quiet like an old man.

Coming here was a mistake.

“Kanjiya,” Nino said again, shaking her from staring so rudely. He looked the same too, with his clever grin and knowing eyes. It didn’t surprise Shihori in the least that they’d let him take over the store.

“Ninomiya-san, the big boss,” she replied, trying to smile.

“Don’t suppose Ninomiya big boss is picking up the tab tonight with his big boss salary?” Keiko inquired, slipping out of her coat and unzipping her boots, leaving them beside the twin pairs of sneakers already there. Nino had always been particular about money, so this eased him and Keiko right into conversation. Shihori took her time shrugging out of her coat, struggling to take off her shoes even though they were flats and it ought to take half a second.

She sat beside Keiko, grateful the bar master was back with towels and their drinks. She was happy for the distraction. Keiko had at least been kind enough to sit across from Ohno, leaving Shihori to mainly contend with Nino before her. He was a smooth conversationalist, the complete opposite of Ohno beside him, and he dominated the table in such a way that Shihori’s tension eased over the next several minutes. Keiko took plenty of time chatting about her exciting job, not naming names but dropping a few hints about some of the incidents her firm had handled.

When Keiko was done, it was Nino’s turn. He didn’t talk about himself so much as his girlfriend, a nurse at the same hospital where Keiko’s dad worked. Even as the bar master, Aiba-san, came out with platters of yakitori and other food bites, Nino enthusiastically detailed some of the worst medical cases his girlfriend had dealt with. “You will not believe the things people get stuck up their ass.” Even quiet Ohno, who’d mostly been working on a pint of beer, had laughed at some of Nino’s disgusting stories, coming out of his shell a bit.

By the time Nino wanted Shihori’s life story from the last seven years, she’d switched from peach chuhai to rum and Cokes, Aiba-san being one of the most attentive bartenders she’d ever met. Though Keiko was on her second and most likely final drink for the night, Shihori had been slurping down the alcohol from the second she’d been able to. It made it easier when her gaze shifted for brief seconds, looking from Nino to Keiko and from Keiko to Nino, knowing that Ohno in the middle was unavoidable if she wanted to best follow along with the conversation. 

She was feeling a cheerful little buzz when she started to detail the life and times of a social studies teacher. Nino, out of anecdotes about things stuck in people’s butts, pulled out his phone. “Quiz time, quiz time,” he said. “I’m going to see how smart this teacher is.”

“She’s smarter than you,” Keiko declared, waving to Aiba for some water.

“As she should be,” Nino replied, “if she’s responsible for the education of the next generation.”

Shihori took another sip of her all too freeing alcohol. So long as she looked at Nino, she was safe. So long as there was quiz time, she didn’t have to waste time thinking about Oh-chan. “Japanese history. World history. Geography. I know it all.”

“Okay then,” Nino announced, reading from his phone. “Some local flavor. Where was Tokugawa Ieyasu born?”

“Okazaki Castle,” Shihori replied in seconds, amazed how she wasn’t yet slurring her words. At the rate she was drinking, though, it wouldn’t be much longer. “You’re kidding with that one, right?”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Nino said, chuckling. “What year?”

“1543!”

From over at the bar, she heard a whistle of approval and some applause from Aiba-san. Shihori lifted her glass in thanks before taking another ample sip. Beside her, Keiko offered a gentle poke of admonishment. Slow down, her friend was saying, I’m not cleaning your puke out of my car.

But Nino had his phone and the entire Internet at his disposal, growing bored as Shihori answered or came pretty close to the right answer on at least a dozen questions. Nino, who’d always been more competitive than he’d openly admit, finally got fed up.

“Okay, name at least three players on the 2007 Chunichi Dragons team that went on to win the Japan Series,” Nino said, offering her a wink. He knew she didn’t follow sports.

“What?” she complained. “That’s not a history question.”

“Yes it is,” Nino said. “It’s a historical event.”

“It’s baseball,” Keiko complained. “You’re cheating, just so you can gloat.”

“Darvish.”

All three of them grew quiet, turning to see Ohno had offered an answer in an attempt to help her out. He hadn’t spoken for maybe twenty minutes, and even then he’d just been asking Aiba-san for another beer.

Shihori couldn’t help but look at him, blinking slowly. “Darvish?”

He nodded. “I think…I think Darvish might have been there.”

In all the years she’d known Ohno, he’d never expressed any interest in baseball. But she could see the complete seriousness in his expression. Maybe it was the rum and Cokes talking, but she saw an odd urgency in Ohno’s face, as though he was begging her to let him help. She hated how easily the sight of his determination made her heart race. Her younger self, the Shihori who’d been head over heels for him, cherished any time when he abandoned his usual indifference. When he’d get really into a random TV program, when he’d sit and sketch things on his notepad while she sat and read next to him on his living room floor. It was that same feeling. Darvish, he was telling her. At least say Darvish.

“Let’s make this interesting,” Nino said, holding his phone so Ohno couldn’t see the screen. “Kanjiya, I’ll let you name just one member of the 2007 Dragons championship roster. Ohno-san has offered you an answer already. Because this is in violation of the rules…”

“What rules?” Keiko complained.

“…if you accept Ohno-san’s answer and he is correct, then we split tonight’s tab four ways. But if you accept Ohno-san’s answer and he is wrong, then you pay.”

“Now you’re just being cheap,” Keiko interrupted.

“What if I don’t accept his answer at all?” she asked quietly.

Nino smiled. “Right or wrong, if you decline Ohno-san’s assistance, then he’ll be paying the tab.” He turned to Ohno, holding his phone out like a microphone. “Your confidence tonight, sir?”

Ohno looked embarrassed. “I just…I thought it was Darvish…”

“Your confidence?”

Ohno finally looked up, meeting Shihori’s gaze. “Sixty-two percent.”

“Sixty-two?” Keiko laughed.

She was almost grateful for all the drinks she’d gone through, if only because it kept the panicky feelings in her stomach from getting too out of hand. Reject him, her brain was telling her. Right or wrong, he’d have to pay. It’s what Keiko would do. Thanks but no thanks for your answer. You treated me poorly, now pay for my drinks. But that was so silly. She was so angry with Nino for doing this, hinging the whole bet on whether or not Shihori was willing to trust Ohno. It was just a dumb trivia question, but there was a lot more at stake than Nino could have realized.

“Darvish Yu, he’s a pitcher,” Nino said, as though he was being generous and offering a hint. 

“It’s okay, Shii-chan,” Ohno mumbled, fidgeting with his near empty beer glass. “If you don’t think I’m right.”

The gentle, too familiar way he’d addressed her, as though seven years had been seven minutes, shut even Nino up. Maybe he finally realized the can of worms he’d opened up, all over something as pointless as this. She couldn’t even bear to look at Ohno now. All of this, all of this made her so uncomfortable, couldn’t they see that?

She grabbed her purse, pulling it into her lap. “Let’s get this over with and settle the bill. I’m sorry, but sixty-two percent is not enough for me. I will not be accepting Darvish as an answer. I don’t have an answer at all.”

Nino spoke with a little less bravado this time. “Well, Darvish did indeed pitch during the 2007 Japan Series…”

Shihori thought she was going to stop breathing.

“…but fortunately for you, Kanjiya, he was pitching for the other team. Darvish Yu played for the Nippon Ham Fighters that year. Aiba-san, please hand tonight’s bill to Ohno-san.”

With that, Shihori got up, Keiko having to steady her as she wriggled her feet back into her shoes. “It was nice to catch up with you, but all that trivia has made me tired,” she lied, looking anywhere but at Ohno and Nino. Keiko had to help her into her coat, and the rum and Cokes weren’t feeling too good now.

“It was good to see you too,” Nino replied before calling Aiba over, probably in hopes of smoothing things over, dispersing the awkward air that had taken over Peking Duck.

Keiko had her car keys in her hand and they thanked Aiba-san quickly before heading for the exit. The cold rush of air felt amazing. She hadn’t even realized how warm it had been inside. They headed for the car, and Keiko stopped her with an arm to her elbow.

“Are you okay?”

She turned, shrugging her shoulders. “What, we got a free meal and drinks out of it…”

Keiko frowned. “Shii-chan, you’re crying.”

And so she was, wiping her eyes quickly. When had that started? “I haven’t had that much to drink in a while, it’s not a big deal.”

It had probably started as soon as he’d called her “Shii-chan” again after so long.

They drove back to the Kitagawa house, letting the radio fill the silence. She didn’t even bother changing out of her clothes, crawling right into bed and pulling the blanket up over her head.


	2. Chapter 2

It was unlike Nino to spend the entire workday avoiding him, but he’d only come by to do a cursory check of the fishing zone before hurrying away. After the women had left the night before, Nino had told Ohno to put his wallet away, had paid for the entire bill at Peking Duck instead of offering an actual apology.

What had happened was just so dumb. Everything had been going fine, everyone had been chatting, the food had been good. And then Ohno had just blurted out his unsolicited assistance and ruined everything. As he stared at the rows of merchandise, looked out across the open store to the golf area, all he could see was her. 

She had always been pretty, but she was more grown-up now. When they’d broken up, she’d only been about 22, 23 years old. With a round girlish face, with an easy, cheerful smile. The woman he’d sat with the night before was more cautious, with a slightly sharper edge. Maybe it came from teaching, dealing with teenagers all day, but there was a wariness in her eyes now. Maybe it came from him. Maybe he’d made her that way.

“Do you have any more of the Chico crankbaits?” someone asked. Ohno blinked himself out of his guilt, turning to address the customer behind him.

“You get that from the end of the aisle here?”

“Yeah,” the guy said, holding up the package. “Where are the rest?”

“Right this way. We’ve got a buy two, get one free promotion on the Chico line right now.”

He focused on helping the customer, probably going above and beyond to explain what they had in stock. The customer didn’t seem to mind at least. But once he’d made his purchase, the fishing zone was quiet again, leaving Ohno kicking himself for all the things he’d managed to screw up in so short a time.

It was Nino’s fault too, but maybe it was Ohno’s fault for not saying anything. Ohno’s fault for not going “you know I haven’t seen her in seven years, and the last time I did, I broke her heart. Tread lightly.”

The wedding reception was tomorrow evening. All he had to do was pick up the tux rental in the morning, show up for a few hours, and wish Jun and Mao well. Then Shihori and Keiko would leave Sunday or Monday, back to their lives in Tokyo. He could get through it. He could do that much couldn’t he? The answer to that was “no” the more hours passed that day. The last thing he needed to do was make things worse, especially on a day that wasn’t about him at all.

He was working until closing that night, and he still had five hours to go. They usually had better crowds, but it had been pouring rain on and off since the morning. He wasn’t looking forward to standing at the bus stop later that night, seeing as how he’d forgotten his umbrella. He supposed he could always buy one from the store if it got really bad out there. He could imagine Jun standing in the Hug Diner right now, staring defiantly out the front window and commanding the rain to stop.

Ohno had known Mao-chan as one of Shihori’s friends, but Jun’s friendship had come a little later. He and Ohno had very little in common. Jun was all about action, about continual improvement, whether it was some new menu item or training for a 10K. He was persistent in maintaining their friendship, inviting Ohno out for drinks or asking him to grab a date and join him and Mao for a night out in Nagoya. Ohno considered himself a Hug Diner customer before anything else, but Jun and Mao always laughed when he said as much.

He was happy for them, but he didn’t dare diminish any aspect of their perfect day. And besides, people expected that from him, didn’t they? They expected him to be stubborn, to go his own way. To decide something on a whim and refuse to budge. That was how he found himself dialing Jun’s cell number in the break room a few hours before closing, after Nino had already gone home.

Jun was incredibly frazzled upon answering, was apparently wrapping up the rehearsal dinner with the parents and his future in-laws early on account of the weather. “I’m sorry to bother you, Matsumoto-kun,” Ohno said, staring at the break room vending machine.

“It’s not a bother,” Jun replied, although he was a really terrible liar. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m not going to be able to make it tomorrow,” he said, hoping he sounded calm. “Something’s come up last minute.”

“Is everything okay? Has something happened? I remember you telling me your father wasn’t feeling well a few weeks back, is he okay?”

“No, no, he’s fine.” His dad had only had a nasty bout of acid reflux. “It’s just…I won’t be able to come.”

“If the weather’s keeping you from getting to the venue, I already told you we’ve got a shuttle service hired that can come get you…”

“Sorry to cause you trouble. I do have a gift. I’ll bring it to you at the diner when you get back from the honeymoon…”

“Ohno-san,” Jun interrupted. “Ohno-san, wait a moment…”

He hung up, feeling like complete shit. He turned off his phone too. There, now the day could go ahead without a hitch. 

By now he was the most senior employee in the store, and as the rain picked up, the wind howling outside the windows, he started sending people home. They had maybe a handful of customers in the entire place by 8:00, and he decided to close up early. He made an announcement over the public address system, telling everyone to please get home safely.

By 8:30 he was ready for final checks, listening to the rain splatter against the building, hammering the roof in an unrelenting fashion. Not quite the typhoon Jun had been dreading, but still a nasty storm. He walked the ground floor, double checking the changing rooms, in between the aisles to make sure everyone had gone. He moved through athletic apparel, through shoes, through exercise machines before taking his key and shutting the escalators down for the night.

He jogged upstairs, doing final checks of the fishing zone, camping, outdoor apparel, golf. There was a crash of thunder and the overhead lights flickered, making him jump. They were on a timer, would go off on their own after Ohno locked the place up and waited in the rain for the bus. Well, he hoped the buses were still running. He’d have to put his phone back on and check, would have to call a cab if he was out of luck.

He headed back downstairs, just in time to hear knocking. Hurrying toward the front doors of the store that he’d already locked, he could see someone was outside hitting them. Maybe it was Kaede-chan, one of the cashiers. She was always forgetting her phone in the break room.

There was another clap of thunder, followed up by lightning a few seconds later. He got the doors opened, and the person hurried inside with a squeak of galoshes on the floor. She was wearing a rain poncho, bright green, and when she pulled the hood down, Ohno was surprised. It wasn’t Kaede.

“Shii-chan,” he said, gaping at her for a few seconds, watching the rain slide down her face, trickle down the sleeves of her poncho. “I should…I should close the door.”

He got it shut again, the wind proving itself a force to contend with. He turned, seeing Shihori standing there soaking wet on the Everything Outdoor logo on the floor of the entryway.

“What are you doing here? How did you get here?”

“Kei-chan’s car,” she said, her galoshes still squeaking on the linoleum.

There was more thunder, more lightning, and he stared at her. “You drove here in the rain? That’s dangerous.”

Her hair was probably the driest thing about her, tied up in a messy bun, and she wiped water from her face with the palm of her hand. “Yeah, it probably was.” She stood her ground. “Mao-chan texted me and Keiko, said you weren’t coming tomorrow. She was very worried. Are you okay?”

She drove all the way to the store in a thunderstorm to ask him that?

“They tried to call you but you didn’t answer,” she continued. “So I was worried it might have something to do with me. Keiko didn’t want me to come, but after last night and you having to pay for our drinks and everything, I thought that maybe you were angry, and you have no right to take it out on Mao and Jun so…”

“I’m not angry,” he interrupted, but she kept going.

“You were invited the same as me, and you should go. I don’t want things to be weird, and it’s just a wedding, you know? So I think it’s perfectly easy for us to coexist in the same room for a few hours. It’s been seven years after all. And it’s silly for us to behave this way when we’re both adults, so will you please come tomorrow?”

She was completely serious, pleading with him to change his mind. She’d come all this way, against her friend’s advice, against all common sense given how awful the weather was. He saw hints of her, that girl he’d fallen in love with. The one who knew how stubborn he could be. Despite their history, despite everything he’d done, she wanted to put Jun and Mao’s feelings first, even if it meant having to see him. 

He’d always felt that no matter how terribly he’d gone about it, he’d made the right call in allowing her to walk away, to pursue her career and a life away from him. For the first time, after seven long years convincing himself that it had all been for the best, letting her go, he felt regret. She owed him nothing, but here she was. He missed her. He’d never admitted it before but damn it, he missed her so badly.

He kept all of those thoughts to himself for now. Instead he pointed at her. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

She looked aside for a moment. “I told myself I’d come here and say what I wanted to say. And I have. So I’ll just go home and curl up with some tea…”

“No!” he said, surprising himself with how emphatic he was. “I mean, at least wait until the rain slows down a bit. I can’t let you go back out in that.”

She looked around the store nervously. “I thought you were still open…”

“I sent everybody home. I was just closing up to go home myself. But I’m not going to let you drive in this storm.”

“That could take hours!” she protested. “I looked at the hour-by-hour forecast and there were those little cartoony umbrellas for the next twelve hours at least!”

He took a deep breath, watching the puddle grow at her feet. “If I agree to go to the wedding tomorrow, will you just listen to me? It’s safer for you in here than out there. You know the roads get washed out sometimes around here.”

She thought about it a moment. She’d probably acted impulsively, not realizing how bad it was until she was already halfway to see him. And now here she was, having expected Everything Outdoor to still be open, not closed early with him the only person on premises. She probably didn’t want to spend any more time with him than was necessary. And he couldn’t blame her for that. But her safety was what made Ohno so insistent. Not just the realization that he missed her. 

“Let me call Keiko,” she said, yanking awkwardly at the bottom of her poncho to pull her cell phone from the pocket of her jeans. “If I’m staying here for however long, the buses will stop running, you know.”

“I don’t care.”

She typed in her phone password, unlocked it. “Well I’ll give you a ride home when you decide it’s safe again, Mr. Weather Advisor.”

He grinned, remembering how much she’d always teased him. It felt good, maybe too good, to hear it from her again. He moved away, ensuring the front door was locked as he gave her some privacy to call up Keiko. He stared out the front door glass, seeing the small hatchback parked in the lot all by its lonesome. Kanjiya Shihori, he thought with a bitter grin, why’d you have to come back?

—

The poncho and galoshes she’d borrowed from Keiko’s mother had been somewhat helpful, but they were now laid out to dry on the floor of Everything Outdoor. Much as Keiko had been annoyed with her for wanting to see him, she’d been too insistent to let her friend change her mind. Mao, who had always been a calm and laid-back sort of person, had contacted them in a panic. “Is something wrong with Ohno-san? Is he okay? Have we offended him in some way?”

No, Shihori had wanted to message her back, no he’s just being as pigheaded as ever, probably thinking he was sidestepping drama by ditching the wedding. But because Ohno Satoshi had the world’s worst sense of timing, his abrupt last minute cancellation had Mao and Jun worried that there’d been a death in his family or something else quite serious. In attempting to not cause drama, Ohno had created more. The idiot.

And now she was stuck here, because much as she didn’t want to admit it, it had been a terrifying drive up the coastal highway to the store. Waves had been crashing high enough to almost reach the barriers on the side of the road, and if they got washed out, there was no way Keiko’s small car would get through any flooding. So against her better judgment, she would be here alone in Everything Outdoor with Ohno until the storm calmed down.

She was now in stocking feet, her jeans soaked from the knees down because of the blowing rain and the poncho flapping around when she ran from the parking lot to the door. She’d been equally dumb in only wearing a t-shirt, and she was freezing. Ohno seemed to realize this as soon as she’d hung up the phone and discarded the soaking poncho and galoshes.

“You need to change clothes,” he said. “Seriously.”

Thankfully she was too teeth-chatteringly cold to worry about blushing from his words. It was an outdoor store, luckily enough. One of the best places to be stuck for a few hours. He left her alone, letting her peruse the athletic wear section for something to change into. He’d even whipped out the “Suave and Confident Ohno” voice she remembered from so many years ago, telling her “get whatever you want, I’ll pay for it. Just hand me the tags, and I’ll scan them at the register.”

Free merchandise, courtesy Everything Outdoor. She was tempted to grab a really expensive pair of yoga pants made with the newest, fanciest microfibers, but she was the dummy who’d taken on a storm and driven up here. He was just being nice to her when he could have just directed her to the employee break room to let her put on stuff from the lost and found bin.

She opted for some thermal pants, a long-sleeved top, and a zip-up fleece, bringing her merchandise to him diligently. He still had that pocket knife on him, the one he’d used all those years ago on their lighthouse lock, using it to cut the tags off for her. If he was thinking about that day, he certainly didn’t look like he was. He probably used that pocket knife for everything, and he’d never had a memory for little moments like that.

She took the clothes to the empty dressing room, and it was rather creepy being in there alone at night. Whenever she’d closed out the store when she worked here, there was always someone else around, or they’d turn up the music over the store’s sound system. It was different tonight with the rain playing its relentless drum beat against the roof, the mirrors reflecting her lonely image and waterlogged jeans.

Shihori dressed quickly, using some of the hangers in the changing room to hang up her wet clothes. Maybe if she got bored she’d go to the women’s restroom, use the blow dryers on her jeans. For now she just came out of the room and back into the empty, cavernous store, feeling a lot more comfortable now in her pink fleece and warm pants.

She found him at the register, adding the receipt he’d just printed out to the cash drawer. “I’m just going to lock this back up and I’ll be right back.” He couldn’t help grinning at her. “If you want to use any of the exercise bikes, I can set that up for you.”

“I didn’t plan on exercising, thank you. I’m technically on vacation, you know.”

“Suit yourself!”

It was so weird being in this huge place all alone. The lights were still on, so there weren’t an abundance of shadows keeping things hidden and scary. There was that “store smell” she remembered so fiercely, even though she hadn’t been through the door in years. Racks and racks of lycra, baseball team t-shirts, the upper floor with golf clubs and fishing rods. Shihori still didn’t like to fish, and she remembered that she’d only started having feelings for Ohno once she’d gotten herself transferred over to shoes, spending her days on the ground floor, not seeing him any longer except during breaks or at the end of a shift.

The memory ached, and being in the store made it all the more real. She took any shift she could get, any bit of money helping with her school expenses. No matter how tired she’d get juggling work, school, the commute back and forth from Nagoya, it had been worth it. She’d be there in the evening just after they closed, re-boxing sneakers and soccer cleats that customers had put back in the wrong place, and she’d see him coming down the escalator, staring into space. But then he’d come by, pick up one of the display shoes, and tap her on the shoulder with it. 

“Hey, shoe girl.”

She’d been the one to ask him out, albeit in a roundabout way. A movie, she’d asked him to a movie, and when it was over he’d been brutally honest. “That was terrible,” he’d said, crinkling his nose and making her heart sink. But then he’d been the one to say “I’ll pick the movie next time.” The rest was history. Ancient history, Shihori tried to remind herself as she slowly walked up and down the aisles. 

A jolt of thunder shook the entire store, making her jump, letting out a tiny squeal in panic. The storm was getting closer. She was safe here, she reminded herself. Hell, the rest of Japan could wash away and she was in the best place to survive. They had enough beef jerky and protein powder under the roof to last out the apocalypse. They’d joked about it back then, making it their plan for the end of the world. “I’ll meet you at the store,” he’d say. “When the zombies come.”

Well, there were no zombies tonight, and she doubted Japan was going to disappear overnight. But there was something kind of final about walking these aisles after so many years, asking him to attend the wedding, getting through the weekend, and then getting back to her life. Keiko had said it might be a good idea to see him, to find closure in it. To allow herself to finally move on.

She must have been wandering around for half an hour at least when she found him on an elliptical machine, arms balanced against the display panel, his legs swinging back and forth aimlessly. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, back and forth. He’d ditched the employee vest, was down to the white polo tee, khakis, and sneakers. He hadn’t noticed her yet, and she couldn’t help watching. Saying a silent goodbye to the guy who still worked here, who probably hadn’t changed at all from the day she’d left him behind. He was still endearingly cute, much as she was embarrassed to admit it. 

As always, his face was at complete peace. Over the years, she’d learned that Ohno Satoshi was a 50/50 guy. Fifty percent of the time, when he was showing that peaceful expression - eyes glazed over, mouth occasionally quirking from side to side - he wasn’t thinking anything at all. He could just disappear, let the seconds go by, lost in absolutely nothing. But then the other fifty percent of the time he was thinking about something incredibly intently. The lures he was going to pack for his next deep sea excursion with friends on a charter tour. One of the sketches he’d started and hadn’t finished. 

She wondered which fifty percent was in action right now.

“Shall we check how it looks outside?” she asked, and his legs slowed their movements.

With another timely crack of thunder, he laughed. “It sounds like it’s getting worse, not better.”

She pulled her phone from her back pocket - 9:52 PM.

“It’s almost 10:00!” She leaned against one of the other machines, frowning. “It’ll be better if you’re with me in the car, you can help me navigate. We can’t be here forever!”

He shook his head. “Not safe, especially after dark. I know for a fact that Keiko would kill me if I let something happen to you. Her dad’s a doctor, right? She’d probably inject me with something…”

Shihori didn’t bother rushing to defend her friend’s honor and inability to commit murder. Keiko was the best friend a girl could ask for, but she was fairly certain that Keiko would demand she stay and wait out the storm for her own safety. Even if it meant being stuck with Oh-chan even longer.

“Did you eat anything?” she asked him. “Anything proper, I mean. For dinner?”

He shrugged. “I had a cereal bar during my last break.”

A grown man, and he still half-assed things like this. “Well, if we’re stuck here, Ohno-san, we should probably eat something.”

She was astonished by the hurt look she saw register on his face as soon as she’d called him ‘Ohno-san’. What else was she supposed to call him though? He recovered quickly enough, hopping down from the machine. They were heading for the break room and Ohno’s promise of some leftovers in the employees’ shared fridge when the lights went out.

—

He’d forgotten about the timer for the lights, so when they went out all of a sudden, he was confused. This confusion only lasted a second or so because then she was fumbling for him in the dark. “Oh-chan,” she was saying, and he kind of hated how much he liked hearing it again. “Oh-chan?”

“I’m here,” he said. He couldn’t help holding out his hand, waiting for her to find it. “I’m right here. The main lights are on a timer, they always go out at 10:00, I’m sorry for forgetting to tell you. But the backups will come on, remember? It’ll be a minute before they fully light.”

They weren’t standing that far apart, but she’d always been more of a scaredy cat than she ever let on. She’d gone to scary movies with him, back then, and even though he could usually tell when something was going to happen, she never could. He remembered how good it had felt, some bloody scene or scary moment frightening her into clinging to him, her head butting against his shoulder as she tried to hide her eyes.

“Tell me when it’s over, Oh-chan. I don’t know why I see these things with you,” she’d always said, and he remembered how her fingers had closed tightly around his arm. He’d never been the princely type, but still she’d sought him out to comfort and calm her.

It was that same tone in her voice, that “Oh-chan” that sounded just the same all these years later when she finally found his fingers with her own. Instead of holding onto his hand though, she settled for twisting her fingers in the sleeve of his polo shirt. As the backup lights came on, he realized there was not going to be much visibility. There was one light in each section that glowed faintly, the lights over the exits, and not much else.

“I could go change the timer…”

“Won’t you get in trouble? You’re not even supposed to be here now, are you?” she asked, and he could feel her relax as she grew used to the darkness. He missed the closeness, the faint warmth of her as she let go of his shirt and took a step back.

With more thunder and lightning punctuating her words, he was at a loss for what to do with her. They definitely couldn’t drive out of here yet, but now the lights were off. “Maybe we should sleep,” he suggested, scratching an itch on the inside of his nose, happy she couldn’t see him do it. “Got the wedding tomorrow and you have to get back. Well, we both do.”

“Sleep?” she asked, sounding more annoyed than nervous now. “Sleep here in the store?”

“Weather’s not letting up, it’s after 10:00, what’s the harm?” He finished with his nose itching. “I mean, this is an outdoor store, remember? We’ve got sleeping bags. All the comforts of home. And beef jerky.” He chuckled quietly. “I remember, that big plan of ours, when we were planning to wait out the zombies here and…”

“Don’t,” she said quickly, and he felt like a jerk. He’d spent the last few days reliving the past, their past, the one they’d had together. Maybe she wasn’t terribly interested in thinking back to those days. For him, there was no real harm in remembering the good times. There’d been many of them, at least in his mind. But for her, obviously, all she could focus on was what he’d done. Or honestly, what he hadn’t done at all.

He shoved down his nostalgia, the happier memories they’d shared. Too little, too late, you idiot, he chided himself. “Well, come on. Nino comes to open the store around 8:30, so we’ll have to be out by then.”

She pulled her phone from her pocket, and soon there was a bluish glow lighting up her face. It was a little ghoulish, seeing her in the phone’s glow. “My battery won’t last too long. But we should set an alarm.”

This much he could do for her. “Let’s get you settled, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Half an hour later, after a walk up the unmoving escalator, he’d upgraded Shihori from a simple sleeping bag to the six-person camping tent model they kept out on display in the middle of the camping zone year-round. Within, her cell phone was now connected to the store’s largest extension cord and plugged in to an outlet 20 feet away. Her alarm set for 7:00 AM, she had arranged herself atop a mound of sleeping bags and looked, to Ohno’s thinking, a bit like a queen in luxurious accommodations. Beside her sleeping area, there was the battery-powered camp light he’d set up, providing much better lighting than her phone screen or the emergency store lights.

He was just returning with a packet of beef jerky, tapping on the outside of the tent. “It’s me.”

She unzipped the tent entrance fully, laughing at him. “Who else would it be?”

He shrugged, thrusting the bag of jerky at her. “Here you go. There’s Gatorade, if you want Gatorade.”

“I’ve got the water you already brought,” she said, taking the bag. Her voice was a little quieter when she said “thank you.”

He hesitated, seeing that she’d taken off the fleece he’d paid for, had let her hair down so she could sleep. There was a soft little strand that had fallen a little out of place. A sudden urge to reach for it, to push it back where it belonged, nearly overwhelmed him. He wouldn’t do it, he couldn’t do it, but a memory hit hard. 

He usually preferred falling asleep on his couch in his apartment, the glow of the TV lulling him into his dreams. Sometimes when she used to stay the night, he’d let her have the whole bed, but by the middle of the night she’d crawl onto the couch with him. He remembered that he usually couldn’t fall back asleep without stroking his fingers through her hair. Those moments, in the haze before he fell asleep, were the moments he’d loved her most. Having her close, keeping her safe in his arms, never wanting her to leave…

It took all his willpower to keep his hands to himself. He looked away from the temptation of her hair. What a creep he was being. If he’d really never wanted her to leave, he should have said something. Long ago. “I’ll stay out here, I’m not too tired yet.”

“Okay,” she said, and he could hear the rustling of the jerky pack in her hands. “Good night.”

“Sweet dreams.”

She zipped the tent back up, and because of the camp light he could see the outline of her sitting inside, opening the jerky pack. To give her some privacy to eat and settle in, he busied himself with unrolling a sleeping bag on the carpeted area of the camping zone, setting himself up near the aisle of canteens and camp stoves nearby. After that was complete, he decided it was best to walk off what he was feeling, to think of something, of anything that wasn’t the girl he’d loved and lost being here in the store with him alone.

He left camping, headed for golf, letting the dim lights and his own familiarity with the store’s layout guide him along. It was usually so easy to just switch off, to lose himself in nothing or in his hobbies. He tried to focus on the rhythm of the rain, trying to think rationally. He was happy to see her, and he was obviously still physically attracted to her, that was all there was to it. It had been almost a year since he’d even dated anyone more than a handful of times. Maybe he was just lonely, he decided. She’d go back to Tokyo, and this would just be an isolated incident. 

He was poking at golf shoes now, increasingly distracted by the thought of her in that tent by herself, unzipping it and beckoning to him. “Oh-chan,” she’d say, “this is a six-person tent, just come in here already.” He sighed in exasperation, feeling himself getting hard at the thought of it. What he needed to do was go downstairs and get on one of those exercise machines and tire himself out.

Instead he made a loop of the upper level of the store three times, losing his erection entirely once he started mentally reciting the SKU numbers for some of the merchandise in his section of the store. He only stopped when he came back around to the camping zone and saw that the light inside the tent was off. He didn’t need to make any further noise wandering around if she was trying to sleep.

Unlike the Korean soap operas he found himself watching at home when insomnia hit, there was no tent unzipping, no beckoning Shihori asking him to come in and keep her company. There was no dramatic swell of music as a long lost romance miraculously rekindled. Instead he took off his shoes and belt, getting into the sleeping bag several feet away from the tent. And that was it.

—

Shihori woke before her alarm, stirring around 6:30 with the need to use the bathroom. She had slept surprisingly well, given how nervous she was. Ohno had gone above and beyond what was necessary to keep her comfortable, and if anyone but Nino was his boss, he’d be getting in trouble for using store merchandise in this manner. She pulled on the fleece he’d bought her and unzipped the tent.

Padding out in her stocking feet, she couldn’t hear the rain and looked up to see sunshine pouring through the skylight at the top of the store. It was far less frightening now. As the beams of sunshine lit the clothing racks and aisles, it looked far friendlier than it had during the night. The store restrooms were on the ground floor, and she passed a lumpy red sleeping bag a little ways off from her tent. Oh-chan, still asleep. 

She felt so much better once she used the washroom, rinsing her hands and face in the sink, using the water bottle he’d brought her last night to at least rinse her mouth out since she didn’t have a toothbrush. She’d had mornings like this before, sleeping over at a boyfriend’s house in the early stages before any of her own personal items were there. It was on a grander scale, doing so in a retail store. She checked herself out in the mirror, sliding her fingers through her hair a bit to feel a little more presentable.

She headed back upstairs, moving a little quickly because the steps of the motionless escalator were chilly on her socked feet. They had to get the store back to presentable before they left, before Nino arrived and tried to infer whether or not she and Ohno had used their time alone and slept together. The thought sent an uncomfortable sensation through her. Was that what Kei-chan had been so annoyed with her about, when Shihori had been so insistent on leaving last night? Had she thought Shihori had so little love for herself that she would throw herself at Oh-chan? He hadn’t even touched her, and he wasn’t the sort of person who’d ignore the past just to get laid in the present, was he?

Not that the idea hadn’t crossed her mind, sitting alone in that huge tent before giving in to sleep. He was still the Oh-chan who’d hurt her, but they were both different people now. Maybe when she got back to Tokyo she’d give dating a try again. It would certainly be healthier than dwelling on the strange night they’d just had together, wondering what might have happened if he’d been bolder, had unzipped the tent and asked to share the space with her.

Shihori made her way over to the red sleeping bag lump, feeling a little guilty that he’d slept out here all alone in a solitary sleeping bag when she’d been sleeping in comparative luxury. He was sleeping on his side, and she could see the vaguest outline of him within, his body curled up in an “S” shape. His head poked out the top, and her heart ached a little to see his sleeping face again after so many years apart. So peaceful, his little snores. Well, whatever, she told herself. They had tidying to do and a wedding to get through before this weekend could end.

She poked at him with her foot, seeing his eyes slowly open. He looked up at her in confusion first, a little slow in remembering exactly why she was there. “Good morning,” he finally said, holding up a hand to his eyes. “Ah, it’s bright.”

“A beautiful day for a wedding, I’m guessing.”

She watched him smile. “Matsumoto-kun will be much easier to deal with.”

Without much more prompting, Ohno got out of his sleeping bag, and though he told her she didn’t have to help, she insisted anyway. Together they packed up all the items they’d opened, setting them back. While they were doing so, Ohno allowed himself a rather wicked smile, informing her that he’d turned off the store cameras while she’d been changing the night before, simply so there’d be no record of them having spent the night in the store. Nino would just assume there’d been a malfunction, maybe a power short from the storm.

“That’s rather crafty of you,” Shihori said as they carried the opened box with the camp light to the Product Returns area in Guest Relations. “A dishonest employee would have stolen money or merchandise.”

“I’m extremely honest,” he said, taking an individually-wrapped piece of jerky from the bag she held out to him, opening it and biting into it eagerly. “Like, these cost 390 yen so I’ll just scan it and put cash in the drawer for it before we leave.”

“A paragon of virtuous behavior,” she replied, unable to keep from smiling. He’d always been a good person, an honest person. It was that brutal honesty, of course, that had broken them apart. But that was in the past, Shihori thought.

It had been so hard, coming to Minamichita. Even Thursday night at the Peking Duck had been so difficult, seeing Oh-chan again. But now, tidying up the store, he was so easy to talk to, as though things were fine between them. Maybe they were now. Maybe she really was moving on. She could go back to Tokyo a whole person, leaving Minamichita without heartbreak or regret.

Once the store was back in order, she gathered up the items she’d borrowed from Keiko’s mother, getting her own clothes from the changing room. Ohno gave her an Everything Outdoor bag to carry everything, and he locked the store down so Nino would arrive and be none the wiser. They got into Keiko’s car, and though the parking lot was dotted here and there with puddles, the rain had definitely stopped. The bright morning sunshine was a welcome sight.

She drove them back, and even though they drove through Mihama, home to the infamous lighthouse and their lock, Shihori didn’t feel too sad. Ohno was a quiet car companion, humming gently with the radio when a song he liked came on but otherwise not troubling her at all. He was peaceful to be with, the type of person who was soothing. Whenever she’d had a rough exam at university, all she’d ever needed was to go to him, to settle her head in his lap and let him stroke her hair without saying a word. A good memory. Not everything had to be sad where he was concerned now, right?

It was just after 8:00 when she pulled over into the parking area near his apartment building. She left the car running, putting it in park and looking over. He was pulling his house keys from the pocket of his work khakis. “Thank you,” she said. “You were right, making me stay. It would have been too dangerous to drive in that storm.”

He nodded in acknowledgment. 

“Well,” she said, not knowing what else to say. “Thanks for your help, with the clothes and everything. I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

He exhaled heavily, and unlike his usual calm expression, the one he’d managed to wear all morning so far, he looked a little troubled when he turned to look at her. “Do you want something to eat? I could make some breakfast. Since you went to the trouble of driving me.”

The entire car ride, the entire morning, Shihori had been feeling confident, pleased that she’d been able to spend time with him and not go crazy or get lost in sad memories. It had been fine because he hadn’t done or said anything to imply that there was more to their little reunion than there really was. But now he was looking at her like he didn’t want her to go. And that was a dangerous road to venture down. There was no reason to go inside, to let him cook her a meal like he used to. She’d been on the verge of getting the clean, polite break she hadn’t gotten from him before. After the wedding, they would be out of each other’s lives for good. 

Had she been reading his reticence wrong this entire time?

She hid her confused, strange feelings and gave him a smile instead. “Oh, no. Thank you, it’s no trouble, really. Kei-chan will probably be worried if I don’t get back. We’ll see you tonight, okay?”

His disappointment was readily apparent when he nodded in response. Just what did he want from her? And why now, after all this time? “I’ll see you then.”

Shihori was grateful that Keiko’s parents weren’t home when she returned. It was just Keiko, throwing together breakfast for them in the kitchen and giving her the third degree when she came in, wearing different clothes than she’d left in. 

She told Keiko everything, save for the little awkward exchange in the car. “He was always so strange,” Keiko said, scooping rice out of the cooker for her. “But I suppose a more unscrupulous person would have tried to put the moves on you.”

“Huh?”

“Trapped in a storm, thrown together after so long. One of those overdramatic situations where common sense goes flying out the window.” Keiko sighed. “But again, you’re smarter than that and it’s not like he’s some romantic lead with smoldering good looks you can’t resist…”

“That’s enough, okay?” she grumbled, somehow overwhelmed with the need to defend Ohno. “Just because he’s not some teen idol…”

Keiko poured out some coffee into mugs, dropping the topic. After all, she’d been the one to think Shihori would be better off seeing him again in the first place. They turned to cheerier subjects while they ate, Bill coming down for his breakfast and to bump his head against Shihori’s shins in greeting. They enjoyed a lazy, leisurely morning and afternoon, curling up in front of the large TV in the Kitagawas’ living room with some DVDs while the cat snoozed. 

Tearing themselves away was difficult later on, once it was time to get ready for the reception. They gossiped about other people from high school, taking turns with the curling iron and fussing over makeup, expressing their jealousy about Mao and Jun’s forthcoming honeymoon in Okinawa. Sunshine and sandy beaches when all Keiko and Shihori had to look forward to was more work and the crowded rush of Tokyo.

The dress code was a little fancier than Shihori was used to, which had apparently been Jun-kun’s idea. But seeing herself in the mirror, the way her newly purchased navy cocktail dress fit perfectly, made her feel more confident. She couldn’t help giving a little twirl, seeing the fabric move. Keiko had gone for a floor-length deep red and kept fussing over how annoying it was going to be to drive in it.

The wedding ceremony itself was in a small Christian chapel in Mihama with just the family, but the reception was being held at one of the larger ryokans along the coast. As Keiko parked, switching out of the sneakers she used to drive and into her heels, Shihori watched the beautiful sunset, even in the chilly air of an early spring evening. This would be her final farewell to Minamichita, she decided. She’d have a great night celebrating her friend’s happiness and would leave with no regrets.


	3. Chapter 3

Just as Jun had promised, the shuttle service picked Ohno up on time, making only one other stop to retrieve Jun’s high school friend Ikuta-san from his apartment on the other side of town. Ikuta-san was a lively, chatty person and by the time they were pulling into the ryokan parking lot, Ikuta was insisting that Ohno call him “Toma” already. It seemed that their mutual friend’s requirement of tuxes for the night had encouraged Toma to start drinking early to keep from tugging uncomfortably at his cummerbund.

It didn’t actually surprise Ohno that much when he and Toma learned they were sitting together in the ryokan’s single banquet hall. The room was already filling up with Jun and Mao’s other friends and family, and though Ohno was usually not a sociable person, Toma picked up the slack instantly. He had his arm around Ohno’s shoulders, steering him to their table of six where they’d been seated with a married couple who were also friends of Jun’s, Oguri-san and his beautiful wife Yu. Two brothers with the last name Nakamura rounded out the table, and Toma was quick to grab Ohno a beer from the open bar. Everyone seemed to know one another already.

“He made us wear these stupid tuxes,” Oguri-san was chuckling when they got seated. Toma and Oguri-san, Shun, had snuck in tons of photocopied pictures of Jun from when he was younger and rather gangly-looking, intending to slowly distribute them over the course of the evening. Shun also had a grocery bag under the table full of other “surprises,” which made his wife shake her head in embarrassment. “So we’re going to make his life miserable. How about it, Ohno-san? You in?”

Surrounded by Jun’s childhood friends, who all seemed very laid-back in a way Jun wasn’t, made Ohno feel rather welcome. He raised his beer bottle. “I hate tuxedos too.” The raucous male cheer that went out from the table earned them a few irritated glares from other tables. This, Ohno decided, this was why they’d all been stuck the furthest from the head table where the bride and groom would be.

He was on his second beer when he saw two familiar faces come in. Keiko looking elegant in red, and then an even more astonishing sight. He was fairly certain he’d only seen Shihori in a formal dress once, when she’d graduated from university. But this was very different. Her hair had been curled, and she was in dark blue, a short-sleeved dress that was tighter than Ohno would have expected from her. He’d never seen her like this, with that shade of red lipstick, with such a confident air. The two women even caught the attention of Toma beside him, who stopped drawing a mustache on one of his Jun pictures with a magic marker.

“Wow, are you serious?” Toma muttered.

“You know them too?” But then he remembered that Toma and Jun had gone to high school together. They’d been in their last year when Mao had been in her first. And of course, Mao had been friends with Keiko and Shihori. 

“Kitagawa should have been a model, that’s what we always thought. Kanjiya though…”

Ohno felt a strange stirring in his blood at the way his new friend referred to Shihori so informally. “What about her?” he asked, his grip on his beer bottle tightening the slightest bit.

“She certainly grew up. Wonder if she’s single,” Toma replied before turning his attention back to diligently adding a beard to a teenage Jun’s face.

An ugly feeling surged in him, an irrational one at that. He almost wanted to lie to Toma and say Shihori was otherwise spoken for. That she was off limits. But that was none of his business, and he had no right to be jealous. He’d let her go, long ago. And she’d made it quite clear that morning that she was out of his life for good after tonight. 

Breakfast, his stupid breakfast invite, had been instantly rejected. He just…he hadn’t wanted to be away from her yet. And he hadn’t known how to say so. Here she was, the woman he’d spent the night with, who’d been wearing fleece and stretchy pants then. In her fleece or in her tight dress, he knew that he wanted her. He wanted her, because of how Toma reacted. He didn’t want anyone else to have her, because of how Toma reacted. And he was an asshole for it, he was certain of that.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Before too long the happy couple was introduced and everyone cheered, though he was fairly certain their table was the most obnoxiously loud. He’d never seen Jun and Mao look happier, walking in looking like a fashionable couple rather than the fairly humble diner owners they actually were. They took their seats, waving to all their gathered friends, which was apparently Toma, Shun, and the Nakamuras’ cue to start sending around one of their stacks of embarrassing Jun pictures. Oguri’s wife just shook her head again, sipping her glass of wine, as they heard muffled laughter from some of the other tables. 

While the pictures circulated and Jun shot dirty looks across the room to their table, the meal service began. Leave it to someone who cooked for a living to pick delicious dishes, and everything that came to Ohno’s plate was better than what had come before it. But even with food in front of him, something that usually made him quite happy, Ohno was distracted. They’d had a champagne toast for the happy couple, and Toma disappeared and reappeared with more beer every other course during the meal. He was getting drunk, even with the amount of food he was taking in to hopefully absorb it.

Every time he glanced across the room to her table, his feelings got more and more messed up. Watching her laugh, watching her easy smile, watching her clap and cheer for Mao-chan. Shihori wasn’t a trophy to be won, a possession to be claimed. She was someone he’d loved and let go. One night in Everything Outdoor, making her a bed out of sleeping bags, wasn’t enough for someone he’d hurt so badly, wasn’t enough to make her consider him that way ever again. One little comment about her from another man shouldn’t have sent him into such a snit. She deserved better, a better man.

He ended up tipping over his beer bottle on accident when they were setting down cake later on, and one of the Nakamura brothers laughed, getting up in an instant to help mop the spill. Across the table, Oguri was watching him curiously. “Slow down there, chief. We’re going to be taping more pictures to Jun’s car once the dancing starts, we need your help.”

“I’m not a chief,” he grumbled. “Please, excuse me. This tux is a rental…”

Nobody seemed to notice or care about him leaving, and he made it to the bathroom without being interrupted. Once he determined that he hadn’t managed to get any of his spilled beer onto the tuxedo, he turned on the sink, loosening his bow tie a bit and splashing water on his face to try and calm down. She had come all the way to the store last night to change his mind, to be civil when she didn’t have to be. She’d been convinced they could get through this night. And despite her confidence in him, he was being childish, jealous, and possessive. Just like back then, he had nothing great to offer. And what did he even know about her now, beyond a few hours of conversation?

But he was startled to discover that he did want to know. He stared at himself in the mirror, hands gripping the sides of the sink. He wanted to know. Hell, he’d wanted to know everything he’d missed in seven years the moment she walked into Peking Duck. It had been easy these seven years, simply because he hadn’t seen her. He’d been able to live with his decision, to let his stubborn actions win out, because he hadn’t seen her. If she’d never gone to Tokyo, if he’d had to keep seeing her around town, maybe he’d have given her the apology she’d deserved.

It somehow didn’t surprise him when he came out of the bathroom to find her in the corridor. The necklace she wore was a simple silver chain with a blue heart charm. He wanted to reach his hand out, to run his fingers over it. He wanted to do a whole lot more than that, too, seeing how the fabric of her dress hugged her figure. He knew it was all the alcohol talking. 

“Oh-chan,” she said quietly, raising an eyebrow.

“How’d you know I was here?”

She didn’t shy away from meeting his eyes, the way she had only two nights earlier at Peking Duck. She’d been sad that night. He’d made her cry. What was she feeling now? “I saw you get up. I’m here to make sure you don’t leave.”

“Are you my babysitter?” he spat back a bit harshly, and she didn’t seem offended at all. It came with knowing him, not that it excused him for speaking that way to her.

Instead she offered a soft smile, cocking her head to the side a little. “You look cute in a tuxedo.”

“I don’t feel so cute.”

She shifted her weight, crossing her arms. The heels she was wearing brought her to his height, so she didn’t have to look up at him like she always had. “I see you’ve met Jun-kun’s friends.”

“They’re noisy.”

Her smile got bigger. “I’ve got about six of those pictures stuffed in my purse, the ones with the mustaches. They’re so silly.”

“I’m surprised Jun hasn’t kicked them out yet.”

“He loves it, deep down. He loves how they tease him,” she replied. “At least that’s the impression I got from Mao.”

They were quiet for a few moments, and he tugged at the bow tie, knowing it was never going to look right again that night. “Shii-chan.”

“Hmm?”

Now it was his turn to meet her gaze straight on. “You look beautiful.”

Her friendly smile faltered, and her voice sounded insincere when she spoke again. “Thanks…it’s not something I’d usually go for, you know…it’s just that I…”

“You look beautiful, in that dress and out of it.” When she gaped at him, he shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Boy, he was a real idiot. “I mean, no matter what you wear. Even that poncho, when you came to the store. I want you to know that you are. That you’re still so beautiful, now. And that…that you deserve to be happy.”

“I think I ought to get back…” She was trying to leave, trying to spare him from embarrassing himself. He ought to go splash an entire bucket’s worth of cold water on himself. But he was currently in the grips of foot-in-mouth disorder.

“I know it was hard for you to come back here,” he blurted out. “And that’s my fault. I know it’s my fault. And I know you’re leaving again, and maybe that’s a good thing…or maybe it isn’t…”

“Oh-chan, please stop,” she whispered, taking a tentative step forward. 

“I should have said I was sorry,” he insisted. “I was terrible to you…”

“Telling me this now doesn’t change what happened,” she said, putting her hand on his sleeve, squeezing his arm. “It’s okay. I don’t want to say goodbye to you this way.”

“Then don’t say goodbye,” he mumbled, and when he moved his hand on top of hers where it still rested on his arm, she didn’t pull back right away. Her hand was so soft, so warm. “Don’t say goodbye forever. Shii-chan…”

“Please don’t do this here,” she begged him, slipping her hand back. He missed it already. “You don’t mean it.”

He relented, hearing the way her voice had caught in her throat. He was going about this all wrong. Yet again. 

There was noise, and soon enough he saw Toma, Shun, and the Nakamura brothers come stumbling down the hall. Shun had his grocery bag, was pulling out a big roll of duck tape while Toma was holding yet more pictures. They really were going to stick them to Jun’s car.

“Kanjiya-san,” Toma said, smiling at her as the group passed. “Good to see you.”

“Ikuta-san,” Shihori replied, standing back, as though she’d just been on her way to the bathroom. “How are you?”

Ohno felt worse, infinitely so when Shun wrapped an arm around him. “You coming? We were talking to Kitagawa and she said you like to draw so maybe you could…”

He slunk away from Oguri’s touch, hoping he didn’t look like as much of an asshole as he felt. “Nah, man, you go ahead. I’ll make sure he doesn’t come after you.”

“Good thinking!” one of the Nakamuras said, and they were off. By now, Shihori had already left, was heading back for the banquet room and out of reach.

—

When she got back, the DJ was in the middle of a Michael Jackson medley. At the center of the dance floor were the happy bride and groom, stumbling around in a giddy attempt at the choreography for Thriller and surrounded by a group of family and friends. Despite their formal attire, everyone was dancing with abandon. Keiko was among them, toward the back though because she was usually a more subdued, low participation dancer.

Shihori nearly clung to her there, having trouble breathing. “What’s wrong?” Keiko asked, raising her voice a bit over the music.

“Nothing! There was just a long line for the ladies’ room,” she lied, doing her best to fall into step along with her friend, even though she knew she was shaking.

As she did her best to focus on the dancing, she saw Oh-chan over by the bar, getting yet another beer. He definitely didn’t need any more, if his little demonstration in the hall had been anything to go on. He hadn’t known what he was saying. Beautiful…beautiful was not a word she could ever remember him using when it came to her. “You look cute, Shii-chan.” That was something she remembered. “You look nice.” She remembered that too. But beautiful?

_“Don’t say goodbye forever.”_

Thriller blended into Billie Jean, and Shihori knew that as long as she stayed on the dance floor, she would be fine. He wouldn’t make a scene. He wouldn’t come over. Ohno Satoshi just didn’t know what he wanted, that much was obvious. Seven years ago, he’d said he didn’t want to marry her. That his feelings for her were not at the same level of seriousness as hers. That he was unable to meet any expectations she set for him. And that that was just how things were, too bad.

She’d been back in his life for less than two days, and now he was spouting compliments and asking her in for breakfast and apologizing for fucking up years after the fact. She couldn’t take it, couldn’t allow herself to believe it was true. Just like in the past, he was working on impulse. He probably just wanted to get laid and was confusing that with something more serious. She was an exotic prize to be won, the ex-girlfriend who got away. A high hurdle indeed.

But he called her beautiful…he just begged her not to leave…

Jun’s friends returned, greeting the groom on the dance floor, crowding around him. Mao waved the photographer over, beaming from ear to ear as his friends managed to tackle Jun into a chair, taping a fake mustache to his face. From her reactions, she’d been in on this from the beginning, and she was laughing so hard, it was infectious. To his credit, Jun was a good sport, leaving the fake mustache on long enough to tug Mao to him and make sure they stuck one on her too. Everyone clapped and laughed as the photographer snapped at least a dozen pictures of the mustached bride and groom kissing.

Watching them be so effortlessly happy made her heart ache a little. They fought all the time, Mao had told them the other night at dinner, but they had yet to have any fights that couldn’t be resolved. They compromised, they talked things out. After all, whether they were married or not, they had a business to run. They were serious and they were mature, fake mustaches aside. 

Shihori and Ohno had hardly ever fought when they’d been together, and all it had taken was one fight to split them permanently. She’d given an ultimatum, he’d declined, and that was all it had taken. And seven years on, here they were. Still single - Ohno most likely by choice and Shihori because she simply hadn’t found anyone to trust the way she’d trusted Ohno, every single day up until the one where he’d broken her heart. They’d been incompatible. Attaching a lock to a fence hadn’t fixed what had been fundamentally wrong at the core of their relationship - she’d wanted permanence, he’d wanted anything but.

People didn’t change, not people like Oh-chan. Two days and Shihori in a tight dress weren’t remotely enough to change people like Oh-chan. Even if deep down, maybe she wished he would. Maybe she’d spent seven years dating around and still comparing everyone to him and how he’d made her feel, at her worst…and at her best. She knew he was watching, even as she and Keiko kept dancing, getting in a circle and holding Mao’s hands. 

It’s too late, she wanted to tell him. You’ll figure it out. You’ll remember exactly what you don’t want. With me, or with anyone else.

—

Whenever he walked the second floor of Everything Outdoor for the next several weeks, Ohno Satoshi could hardly bear to look at the six-person tent in the camping zone. Because he’d see her, the outline of her in the camp light’s glow, how she’d looked sitting inside all by herself.

He’d let her go. Again.

He’d woken up with a pounding headache after the wedding, having fallen asleep on his couch in the rental tux. But he hadn’t been so hungover, or so drunk the night before, that he’d forgotten how he’d acted. Jealous and petty and probably confusing as hell. After seven years of nothing, he’d thought he had some right to her, some claim. That he could tell her not to leave and maybe she’d listen. And he didn’t have any such claim, not at all.

Once Jun and Mao returned from their honeymoon, the Hug Diner was back open. He was tempted every morning to ask after her, to ask Mao how Shihori was doing. But the thought of doing that embarrassed him and he’d held his tongue.

He was being impulsive, he knew that. Maybe he was only curious about her because she was so untouchable now, out of reach. She’d just appeared again at an opportune time - when he hadn’t dated in a while and was kind of open to that sort of thing. Those phases did tend to come and go in his life. He’d meet a pretty girl at a bar and be open to a few weeks of fun. But then almost as soon as it started, he’d lose interest and break it off instantly instead of continuing to lead the woman on when his heart wasn’t in it.

But here he was over a month later and he was still thinking about her. It wasn’t like he’d slept with her during her visit. Hell, he had barely brushed her hand with his, and the sensation of that still stuck with him. That night in the store replayed again and again in his mind. Maybe if they’d talked more. Maybe if he’d simply _tried_.

Nino had seemingly caught on. After that disastrous night at Peking Duck, he’d known something was definitely up. Ohno was used to Nino’s teasing. What he wasn’t used to, however, was Nino’s help.

It was mid-April when Nino called him in to his office on the ground floor of the store. Inside was a very pretty woman in a business suit, with lips that would have made the Ohno of several weeks before drop everything to ask her out. Once he collected himself, Nino smirking at him, he was introduced to the woman - Ishihara Satomi from Everything Outdoor corporate headquarters in Tokyo.

“Ishihara-san is in human resources,” Nino said, leaning back against his desk.

“Talent recruitment,” Ishihara corrected him, blushing a little. She held out her business card and Ohno took it. “Ohno-san, I’m here today at Ninomiya-san’s request. We have an open position at corporate that Ninomiya-san says would be very suitable for your skill set.”

“Me?” he asked, rather confused. Since when did he have a skill set? “Corporate?”

Ishihara smiled. “The position is for a buyer, specifically a buyer for fishing equipment and supplies. The person in this position is responsible for the planning and selection of all the products we sell in Everything Outdoor’s fishing zones. And this would be for our entire chain, the ones here in Japan and also our satellite stores in Hawaii and South Korea…”

“Ishihara-san,” Ohno mumbled, not quite liking the sound of all that responsibility.

She kept talking. Nino had probably told her that he’d try and interrupt. “Now typically all of our corporate positions are filled by those holding a bachelor’s degree at least. It’s not just picking the right rods and reels, you understand, but delving into consumer buying patterns, meeting with suppliers, following the market, you see…”

“Then I definitely don’t qualify for…”

“But,” Ishihara continued once again, “Ninomiya-san saw our posting and has written a very strong letter recommending you for this position. And we’ve reviewed your performance. You’ve been an associate in the fishing zone for 17 years, and that kind of experience is nothing to scoff at. Everything Outdoor prefers to promote from within, so please don’t be embarrassed about your educational qualifications. Ninomiya-san wrote to us and said that nobody knows these products as well as you and…”

This time he put his foot down. “Are you offering me a job? Right now?”

She faltered, looking over at Nino. Nino, whose face for once was entirely unreadable. Had he really written a letter on his behalf? And he hadn’t said anything?

“Not exactly,” Ishihara said. “But we would like to bring you in for a round of interviews with our lead buyers and see if you’d be a good fit for us.”

“Ohno-san, Ishihara-san came all the way down here from Tokyo to meet you,” Nino said, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe you could chat a bit more about this exciting opportunity.”

He swallowed, not sure if he was nervous or just incredibly angry. “Of course. I’d be happy to hear more.”

So he spent the rest of his afternoon walking Ishihara-san through the fishing zone and all his years working at the store. He had a feeling she didn’t actually know a thing about fishing, being from the corporate office and from “talent recruitment” at that. But she was attentive and as she explained more about what the buying position entailed, Ohno realized that she was completely serious about having him come in to be interviewed. The company was truly interested in him. 

All because Nino had gone behind his back. 

When Ishihara departed, Ohno didn’t even apologize when he burst into Nino’s office and slammed the door behind him. “What the hell did you do that for?” he shouted, and Nino recoiled in surprise. Ohno couldn’t actually remember having raised his voice at him in all the years they’d known one another.

“Whether you want to admit it or not,” Nino said, recovering quickly and sitting on his desk, “you really could do that job. And you’d be good at it. I didn’t write to them as a joke.”

“But why? I’ve never wanted something like that.”

Nino sighed. “Do you even know how much money those buyers make? I mean, it’s a salary, not an hourly wage. You’d make more than I do.”

“I don’t care about…”

“Would you just shut up a minute?” Nino snapped at him. “I can’t promote you any higher. I can’t give you a raise, even though you know more than everyone else in your department put together. You’re always the first to downplay what you can do. And it’s really frustrating to see.”

He sighed. “I’m happy here.”

“You’re always bitching about what gets stocked, this reel versus that and all that shit. If you were in that job, it would be on you to decide those things. Why won’t you at least try, for once in your damn life?”

This was definitely the wrong thing to say, and Ohno’s hands became fists. “I didn’t ask you to interfere in my life. I’m not looking for a helping hand. I’m fine where I am!”

“It’s in Tokyo, you asshole!” Nino barked at him. “A cushy corporate job in Tokyo. Yeah, you’d have to join the suit and tie brigade, but for god’s sake, you’d get to Tokyo. Do you even get it? Do you get what I’m trying to do here?”

“Get rid of me, it sounds like,” he said bitterly.

“You’re really fucking oblivious, Ohno-san.”

He wasn’t really that oblivious. It was more like he couldn’t believe it. Shihori. Nino was going out of his way because Shihori was in Tokyo. Nino had written a letter to the Everything Outdoor corporate office, putting his reputation on the line, just for a chance to get Ohno to Tokyo. To her.

“I don’t even know if this is something I want,” he said quietly, and he wasn’t sure if he was thinking about the job or about Shihori.

Nino’s voice was softer, gentler. “How will you know? Unless you try?”

—

She found Sakurai-sensei sitting on the floor in the back of the classroom, muttering and grumbling under his breath. She crossed her arms, looking down at him. He had a large cardboard box next to him, and he was currently attempting to detangle some cords. There were five lights and five buzzers all interconnected with a thick wire, and the situation was looking quite dire.

“Need some help?”

Sakurai-sensei looked up. His chubby, but handsome face was rather red in his barely concealed rage. “Ah, Kanjiya-sensei. Can you believe this?” He held up the tangled mess for her inspection. 

At the beginning of the school year, Sakurai-sensei had come to her and asked if she wanted to be the assistant faculty advisor for the school’s Academic Quiz Bowl team. Sakurai, the head of the social studies department and her direct supervisor, was known as kind of a hard ass among the students, and he had led the Quiz Bowl team to numerous district-wide victories over the last several years. His previous assistant advisor had left to help coach the math team this year.

Though Sakurai-sensei was a smart and educated man, cords were a bit of a challenge for him. They needed the lights and buzzers for their practice rounds, so the students could get used to ringing in and responding during meets. She knelt down, setting her purse beside her and grateful she’d worn leggings under her dress that day. 

“Give it to me, I’ll figure it out,” she said cheerfully, and he seemed all too happy to hand the task over. Their first meet of the season was the following afternoon, and he was full of a nervous excitement that made him a little exhausting to be around.

While her fingers picked at the complex series of knots, he paced the floor near her and went on ad nauseam about their pending meet at Hibiya. The school was known for how many students got accepted to Todai, and Sakurai-sensei was desperate to crush them and prove that their school’s students were just as capable and smart.

Shihori had never known that Quiz Bowl was such an intense thing. She’d been on the team at her high school, and they’d usually lost. But Sakurai-sensei took it very seriously. “It’s something parents look for when they want to enroll their kids,” he’d told her multiple times now. “A school with strong academics. And it’s an extracurricular that will look great on a university application as well.”

Sometimes Shihori wondered if Sakurai’s quizzing persona continued at home, if he drove his wife crazy at the dinner table with multiple choice questions and math puzzles. She looked up briefly from her detangling, spying Sakurai-sensei at the chalkboard looking at his “starting line-up” of students for the following afternoon. He’d proudly told her a week earlier that he’d come up with his “superstar” team, a good balance of students with strengths in different categories, from the sciences to literature to art and music. Maybe he was second-guessing himself, giving himself an ulcer thinking about Hibiya’s strengths and weaknesses.

If she wasn’t a teacher, if she was one of Sakurai-sensei’s students, she wondered if she’d have been good enough for his superstar team. She grinned, watching Sakurai talk to himself about one of their students with the same intensity of sports analysts during draft season. At least he was never this crazy when it came to evaluating her as her supervisor.

Mercifully, her cord unraveling was soon finished, and she put the cords and buzzers and lights back in the box with a bit more care so they wouldn’t be such a mess. Getting to her feet, she heard her phone vibrate inside her purse. She discovered a text from Mao, informing her that Oh-chan was coming to Tokyo the next day - that he didn’t have her number, but wanted to know if they could meet. Mao had then passed along Ohno’s contact details.

She must have been staring blankly at the message for a while because she barely registered Sakurai-sensei coming near until he tapped on her shoulder. “Is everything alright?”

She hurriedly closed out her messages, embarrassed that he’d seen her making such a dumb face. “Nothing, just a message from an old friend. Wants to meet up tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Sakurai mumbled in reply, face already reentering panic mode.

She smiled, waving her hand in front of her face. “No, no, I’ll definitely be there for the meet at Hibiya, don’t even worry! I can meet them after.”

“Good, good,” Sakurai said, visibly relieved. The poor guy was only a few years past 30 but at the rate he was going, he’d have a heart attack by 40.

“I’ll be heading out first. Let’s do our best tomorrow,” she said, shoving her phone in her purse.

He walked with her back to the faculty room. He was staying behind to grade papers while she was taking hers with her. It was easier for her to grade at home with the TV making background noise and a helpful beer or three to get her through some of the answers her students came up with when they hadn’t bothered to do any of the reading. Plus Keiko was there and she loved when Shihori read some of the weird answers to her out loud.

She shoved everything into her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. Mao’s message on her phone was driving her crazy. Oh-chan? In Tokyo? Had the world turned upside down? She’d never even been able to get him to go to Nagoya half the time when she wanted to shop or enjoy a day off.

It had been a blessing in disguise when Sakurai-sensei had approached her just as school started up again, asking her to help out with Quiz Bowl. Between practices for Quiz Bowl, lesson planning, and other school-related activities, she’d been too busy to spend a lot of time thinking back on her strange time in Minamichita. How she hadn’t even really said goodbye to Ohno. After a month had gone by without any word about him, she thought it was over again. That she’d been right, that the whole thing had just been a temporary strangeness, that her reappearance in town had only intrigued him because of its rarity. A very short and fruitless infatuation.

She’d put it behind her as best she could, trying not to think too hard about that look in his eyes when he’d come out of that bathroom, a bit of water still dripping from his chin, to tell her that she looked beautiful. It wasn’t over though, was it? This thing they had, whatever it was, was still lingering, still unfinished. It was frustrating, and she didn’t know why Mao-chan had intervened on Ohno’s behalf. Mao knew very well how things had ended between them all those years ago. Was she just being a goofy, well-meaning newlywed and only helping to spread more love? Or was Ohno so desperate to contact her that he’d begged Mao to help him?

And why the hell was he coming to Tokyo? Hmm, she thought bitterly. Maybe there was a fishing convention. Something he’d actually give a damn about.

Much as she was nervous, confused, and admittedly hurt, Shihori found herself in her empty apartment a short time later dialing the number that Mao had forwarded along. Keiko was working late, so she wasn’t there to tell Shihori to ignore him. While Bill played with one of his stuffed mice, Shihori shut her eyes and listened to the phone ring. Once, twice, three times. If it went to voicemail, she was hanging up but…

“Hello?”

“Ohno-san,” she said, straightening up a little. 

“Shii-chan, hi.”

She wanted to snap at him, tell him to stop calling her that like they were simply the best of friends. She decided against it. He probably didn’t even realize it was weird. “I heard from Mao-chan. About you coming to Tokyo.”

“I have an interview tomorrow. I’m actually in Chiba already right now. You know Aiba-san, from Peking Duck?”

“I remember him.”

“Well, his parents have a restaurant, I’m having dinner here. I’m staying in a hotel in Akiba, though, since my interview’s at Everything Outdoor corporate in Asakusa tomorrow.”

“If you’re having dinner, don’t let me interrupt…”

“No, no, it’s fine. They haven’t brought my food out yet, and they’re letting me eat in a private room since I’m Aiba-san’s friend. It’s pretty fancy, I have to say.”

He was speaking with her so casually, as though nothing strange had happened between them. “You’re interviewing at the corporate office?” she asked, actually surprised.

“Yeah, Nino thought I should interview for this position. I don’t know…”

Nino had clearly been persuasive. Getting Ohno Satoshi out of the Chita Peninsula took a great deal of effort. “I hope it goes well for you,” she said honestly. 

It was a bit strange to hear about him trying something new. That seemed like the opposite of the Oh-chan she’d known, who’d only changed from part-time to full-time at Everything Outdoor in order to have enough money to move out of his parents’ house, which made dating easier for him. She really had a hard time thinking about Ohno in a job that required a suit and tie. She had an even harder time thinking about him living in Tokyo.

“It’s probably going to drive me crazy, going on an interview,” he admitted easily. “That’s why I was kind of wondering…I mean, you don’t have to say yes or anything…what I mean is…”

Just spit it out, she wanted to say.

“…if you’re not busy tomorrow night, did you want to grab something to eat?”

“I have a school event that’ll go until at least 7:30 or 8:00 PM. Do you have a train to catch tomorrow?”

“No, I’m not leaving until Wednesday, it’s fine. I can meet at any time if you have something for school. Eating late is fine.” He paused for a moment. “If you would like to ask Kitagawa-san to come, I don’t mind.”

But he _did_ mind, she could totally tell. He never bothered to hide what he was feeling. It was kind of him, though, to suggest that Keiko attend. 

She could tell him no, but then again, if she really hadn’t wanted to see him again, would she have bothered calling him in the first place? It was so frustrating, not knowing what he really even wanted from her. But if Minamichita had meant nothing to him, why would he want to meet up now? Oh-chan was either interested or he wasn’t. He viewed the world (and relationships, for that matter) in black and white terms. Going out of his way to have Mao contact her on his behalf, it had to mean something.

“Shii-chan, are you still there?”

“I’m here,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “How well do you know Tokyo?”

“I know how to use the trains. It’s been a while since I’ve been here though.”

“Well our event is a meet at another school. It’s by Nagatacho. Could you find your way there or shall I meet you in Akiba by your hotel?”

“I’ll go wherever you want.”

She waited while he got a pen and paper from the woman who ran the restaurant, presumably Aiba-san’s mother, and together they decided it would be easier to meet in Akihabara. There was a secondhand manga store that she particularly liked in the neighborhood, and she supposed a visit there would make things go a bit more smoothly.

“Well, they’ve brought my food,” he said. “And I have your number now in case there’s a problem. Don’t worry about your school event. If it runs late, I’ll wait for you. It’s not a big deal.”

“I appreciate that, thanks,” she replied. Before she could take it back, she spoke again. “Good luck with your interview, I’m sure you’ll do well.”

He was quiet for a short moment. “Thanks, Shii-chan. Have a good night.”

She hung up, setting her phone on the table. There was no going back now.

—

He was happy to change out of the suit he’d worn to the interview, feeling far more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt again. But as he hung his suit jacket up in the hotel room’s tiny closet, he had a suspicion that he’d have to buy another one. A few more suits, at the very least.

On the train ride up here, he’d pretty much convinced himself that he was going to bomb the interview. They were going to judge him because he wasn’t a college graduate. Hell, he wasn’t even a high school graduate for that matter. They were going to think he was some country hick playing dress-up, and they’d all get a good laugh out of it. He would embarrass Nino. He would fumble his words like he was so prone to do. He’d just make a fool of himself entirely.

But somehow he’d gotten up that morning, squinted at a video tutorial on his phone in order to get his tie tied, and had gone to corporate headquarters. And when he got there, everyone had been so kind. Ishihara-san had been there, and she’d introduced him to the entire buying department. None of them had seemed snobby, and he was certain that they all knew he was just a store associate from a small town. It had been more than one interview, but it hadn’t been as intimidating as he’d thought.

He’d first met with the head buyer for the entire company, Matsuoka-san, and he broke down everything that the fishing buyer would be responsible for in fairly simple terms. It seemed like a lot of work, Ohno had to admit that, but once Matsuoka started asking what Ohno thought about how they currently stocked their stores, he’d felt comfortable enough to be honest with him. Even if he didn’t get this job, maybe they’d take his suggestions to heart. He’d ended up talking so much that Ishihara had had to knock on the door and interrupt, to inform Matsuoka-san that their interview time had gone way over.

Matsuoka had been jotting down notes while Ohno had spoken with him, his face rather serious, but when he got up at the end to shake Ohno’s hand, he’d been smiling. “Thanks so much for coming in to talk with me today, Ohno-san. It’s been a pleasure.” And he’d sounded sincere, too.

After that, he’d met with some of the other buyers in groups of twos and threes. They asked about him and his own experience, but they’d also told him more about the job, about their work environment. There’d be travel involved, but the company paid for everything. One of the buyers for the golf zone told Ohno that the travel was the best part of the job, going to industry conventions and checking out all the new products, determining what items would be worth stocking. 

“We have good relationships with a lot of manufacturers,” another of the buyers had said. “They let you test everything.”

The thought of trying out the newest fishing rod models, the newest baits before anyone else? Ohno had to admit that it was exciting. Though he’d come up to Tokyo with a sense of dread in his belly, he left the corporate office with the sense that Nino had actually been right. They’d train him, they’d get him where he needed to be for the business side of things. He really had known more about the job than he’d given himself credit for. He’d be a good fit, and the people he’d work with wouldn’t look down on him.

If they offered it to him, though, what would he say? He had a life in Minamichita, such that it was. His parents were there. Everyone he knew, from the people he went fishing with to Mao and Jun at the Hug Diner, was there. He had his job, he had Nino. He had Aiba-san and his comfortable nights drinking at Peking Duck. Plus Tokyo was so much busier, so hectic. He’d pay more money to live in a much smaller place. Sure, he’d make more money, but would he be happy? It was a lot to think about.

It was just after 8:30 when his phone finally rang. “I’ve just gotten off the train, I’m sorry for being late. We went into overtime!”

“Overtime?” Ohno asked, chuckling. The sound of her voice was soothing in a way he hadn’t expected. Talking to her last night, it had surprised him how happy it made him. The fact that she’d called him at all had to mean something good.

“Yes, we were tied…” She chuckled a little, and it made his heart race a bit. “Ah, I’ll tell you when we meet.”

She gave him directions to meet her by this secondhand manga shop, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from teasing her. She was still just as obsessed as ever, and he thought that was cute. When he found her, he felt rather underdressed. He’d just put on a jacket over his t-shirt, was wearing sneakers, and here she was in a green trenchcoat, a nice dress underneath, and tights. If he’d had a teacher who dressed like that, maybe he’d have stayed in school.

She stuck out in the neighborhood, and as they entered the shop, she was definitely arousing the curiosity of the other customers. A bunch of nerdy guys, staring at her, and he wanted to put an arm around her, to let them know she was here with _him_. But he settled instead for just following close behind her. She seemed fairly oblivious to the attention she was getting, letting out a happy little noise when she got to the end of one aisle and found a series she seemed to like, tossing at least eight volumes into the little shopping basket she’d grabbed from the store entrance.

While she perused the aisles, she was chatting a mile a minute. Apparently she was coaching some sort of student quiz team, and they’d just pulled off a stunning upset win. He was perfectly content to let her do all the talking. After all, he’d had his interview that day and had probably spoken more in those few hours than he had in weeks. And listening to her enthusiasm - for the students, for her job - made him really happy. 

If she’d stayed in Minamichita, if he’d begged her to stay with him all those years ago, then there wouldn’t be a Shihori here in Tokyo to chat away about the head coach, her boss apparently, bursting into happy tears when they won the match. If she’d stayed behind, maybe she would have come to resent him for it, for limiting her choices and her world.

She paid for quite a lot of manga at the front, and she was given a rather hefty bag to tote around. “You always buy this much?” he asked, grinning as she pulled it down from the counter with an adorable little ‘oof’ noise.

“I will not say,” she replied, holding her nose in the air.

They got back out onto the street, all lit up and full of people gawking at glowing screens, girls in costumes handing out flyers for nearby stores, solitary men stopping every few feet to glance at a store display. He held out his hand after only a block. 

“Let me carry that.”

“No, it’s my stuff, I can…”

He ignored her, taking the bag from her hand anyway. Damn, the thing had to weigh 20 pounds! But he’d made his gentlemanly gesture and he couldn’t take it back now. From the corner of his eye, he thought he caught her smiling.

“What do you want to eat?” he asked.

“I thought we’d head down to Ginza.”

He nearly collided with someone else, stepping out of the way as a girl tried to hand him some tissues. “Seriously?”

She laughed, and it warmed him. “I’m just teasing. There’s a family restaurant just around the corner here. The bread is good, you’ll like it.”

She remembered so many little things about him. He was getting on a train come morning, going back to Minamichita to await the corporate office’s decision. Walking at her side in Tokyo, hearing her tease him, his earlier doubts started to recede. 

He was comfortable in his life, unchanging, steady. The corporate job would require so much more from him, but he knew it would make him happy in a way Everything Outdoor retail couldn’t. In his current job, he showed up, sold only the items on the shelves, went home. In corporate, he’d have a say. He could change the things he’d had no control over. He wouldn’t have to deal with customers. He wouldn’t have to work with teenagers who didn’t bother to learn the items on the shelves. He’d never have to count and recount a slack-off employee’s cash drawer again.

And as he slid into the booth of the family restaurant across from Shihori, he realized that if he took the job, maybe she’d give him another chance. He remembered how Nino had yelled at him, calling him out for never trying. He’d always been too afraid to change. He’d have never applied for corporate on his own - but meeting the people there, learning more about the job, it wasn’t really that scary. It was different, but it still suited him. And back when they’d broken up, he’d been afraid of change too. Of having more expectations on him, of not being able to make her happy the way she wanted him to.

But seven years had passed and he hadn’t found anyone who made him feel quite as good as she had. She’d never pushed him. She’d understood that he liked time to himself, since she did too. He could tell her anything, could always be honest with her. Words like “commitment” and “marriage” had frightened him for so long. But he had living proof in his life that they weren’t so scary at all. He saw Jun and Mao at the Hug Diner every morning. They were married now, and all that had changed was that they wore rings. She still teased Jun like she always had, he still made fun of Mao when her handwriting was too messy on the orders she took.

Seven years ago, he told Shihori that he didn’t want to marry her. And he hadn’t been entirely truthful. He should have added “right now” or “at this time.” He hadn’t been ready then, and maybe he wasn’t exactly ready now, especially because he’d barely gotten to know her again yet. But things could change, and that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, like he’d always thought. If Nino hadn’t spoken to corporate, Ohno wouldn’t be on the verge of something life-changing, career-wise. And if Nino hadn’t spoken to corporate, he wouldn’t be here now, watching the way Shihori bit her bottom lip in concentration as she looked over the menu.

She looked up, catching his gaze. If she was annoyed to find him staring, her only reaction was to blush, lowering her eyes back to the menu. “What did you want to eat?”

“Can I tell you something first?” he asked quietly, nervously brushing his fingers across his glass of ice water, burgeoning with excitement. He was ready to at least try. “Can I tell you everything about the interview I had today?”


	4. Chapter 4

He was complaining all the way back from the restaurant, shifting her bag of manga from one hand to the other. “Don’t they have apps so you can read on your phone or an iPad or something?”

“I like having the physical copies,” she answered, trying to take the bag from him. “If you’re so weak, let me carry it again…”

“I’m not weak,” he complained, keeping the bag out of her reach. He smiled, jostling her shoulder. “I’m stronger than I look, alright?”

Dinner had been…dinner had been absolutely wonderful. He’d never been the type to talk, to initiate conversation himself. Shihori could remember nights where he’d meet her at the train station on the way back from class, they’d go to dinner, they’d go back to his apartment, and they’d even have sex and he wouldn’t have spoken more than ten words total in all that time. Tonight, there had been a different man sitting across from her.

Truthfully, she didn’t understand everything he’d said about this job he’d interviewed for, but it really sounded like something he’d be perfect for. He’d always hated to travel, but he’d been so excited to tell her that the company would send him all over the country - to conventions, to other stores to examine the merchandise selection and make decisions. He’d never struck her as a leadership type, a decision maker type, but she supposed if there was anything Ohno Satoshi was qualified to make decisions about, it was fishing stuff.

She’d watched as his food grew cold, seeing this fire in his eyes when he talked about how much responsibility he’d have, how scary it was to get promoted from a regular old store associate to the corporate office, especially since he wasn’t “book smart.” Regardless of their past, of the Ohno she used to know, she found herself smiling, feeling this sense of pride wash over her, seeing him this way. He wanted this job, whether he even realized it fully yet. He wanted it so badly.

Eventually they’d turned to the food before them, and she’d bit back laughter when he grumbled about his mashed potatoes and gravy being a little cold. Oh-chan had always been cute, but the transformed dinner companion she’d just spent time with, he was handsome. Accomplished. Confident and put-together. He’d always had the ability within him, she’d known it. He’d just never been brave. Seeing a brave Ohno Satoshi was dangerous, at least for her heart.

Because if he took her hand right now, if he said “Shii-chan, do you want to come up to my room?” she had a feeling that she’d say yes, and to hell with everything he’d ever done wrong.

He walked her to the station, and they stood out of the way, watching people go through the turnstiles, listening to the beeping of the ticket machines as people fed cash into them or topped up their transit cards. “I’m leaving from Tokyo Station in the morning,” he said, looking around, taking in the station. It was a far cry from the smaller stations back home.

“When will you hear back? About the job?”

“I’m sure they’re interviewing other people,” he said, moving her manga bag to his other hand. “Within a week, I’m guessing.”

“Will you take it? If you get an offer?” she asked, feeling her heart pound. With the way he’d been talking during dinner, his answer had to be yes. If he didn’t really want it, he’d have never spent their entire meal together talking about it. He was too pragmatic to fantasize about something truly out of reach.

“Do you think I should?” he asked, scratching the back of his head.

What I think doesn’t even matter, she wanted to tell him. She decided to tease instead, play it safe. “Well, if you took it, I could have you carry all my bags from now on.”

His eyes were playful, holding up her bag as his small mouth quirked in a grin. “It would be my pleasure.”

“As your senpai, at least in terms of being an Edo dweller, I’d be happy to teach you the ropes.” She inclined her head, trying to rein in her desire to keep flirting. “Keiko-senpai would help, too.”

“I’d need a lot of help,” he admitted. “My mom would have to have all my stuff shipped here instead of bringing it over herself.”

“Wait,” she said, laughing. “Your mother is still buying all your clothes for you?”

He shrugged. “She likes to pick things out, it makes her happy.”

Well, the brave new Ohno was still a fixer upper. Baby steps, Kanjiya, she told herself.

“I should probably get going,” she said, twisting a bit of hair between her fingers nervously. He wasn’t going to invite her over, and maybe that was wise. “It’s a school night.”

He surprised her then, taking the strand of hair from her fingers and giving it a playful tug before handing her bag of manga back. “Get home safe, okay? I’ll let you know what happens.”

She fumbled in her purse for her train pass, nodding in her giddiness. She had to wonder how much his decision to move hinged on the fact that she lived here in Tokyo. She couldn’t get her hopes up, though. Nothing was decided quite yet. “It was good to see you, Oh-chan. At least we get a proper goodbye this time.”

He nodded. “I’m glad.”

The train was packed, and she was crowded around one of the poles, surrounded by middle-aged men that smelled like stale beer. But for once, it didn’t bother her. She kept her grip firmly, shutting her eyes as the train moved along, trying to keep from smiling and looking like a fool. There was no way Oh-chan could have remembered, but he’d given her hair a tug just the same way several years ago. There’d been something serious in his eyes then, when he’d leaned forward to kiss her for the very first time.

Maybe it was a sign. Maybe it was the universe, giving them a chance to start over. A chance to make it right.

—

Half of the rubber ducks had been swapped out, replaced with little fish figurines. Clearly Aiba-san hadn’t counted too carefully, since he had run out by the time he’d gotten to the wall behind his bar, which was still a line-up of yellow ducks. But the sentiment behind it was appreciated.

Ohno had never liked celebrating himself. Birthday parties as a kid seemed tedious, a long slog when they should just eat cake and be done with it. His mother had thrown him a graduation party in junior high, mostly in hopes of getting some cash from relatives. He just didn’t like all the attention to be centered around him.

But the party had been Nino’s idea, since Nino was telling anyone who would listen that Ohno’s big promotion at Everything Outdoor was all thanks to his kindness and generosity. Peking Duck had been rented out for the night, and in just four short weeks Ohno would be leaving Minamichita behind for his brand new life. He’d only been back home for two days when the call came, Ishihara-san listing the details of his job offer. When she’d told him what his salary and compensation package entailed, he’d asked her to read it back again, if only to assure him it wasn’t a joke. They were even paying his moving fees, were helping him find an apartment.

He had to take it. It seemed like everyone in Minamichita was behind him, from the cashiers at work to his mom and dad. His parents were sitting quietly in the rear of the izakaya, and from the odd look on his mother’s face, she’d just tried one of Aiba’s new menu items. Ohno honestly couldn’t remember the last time his parents had looked at him with pride in their faces. They’d grown so accustomed to him coasting by. He’d never felt bad about it before, living life his own way, but when he’d told his mom about the new opportunity, she’d started to cry. At first he thought he’d said something wrong, that she was upset that he’d have to move. But they’d been tears of happiness, for a stubborn son who’d never quite lived up to his apparent potential. Better late than never, had been his dad’s opinion.

Jun and Mao had brought a cake with them, and Ohno was going to miss them terribly. He was certain he’d never find a cup of coffee as good anywhere else, but Jun, with his detail-oriented mind, had presented Ohno with a gift. He’d combed through Yelp reviews and other review sites, compiling a list of Hug Diner equivalents throughout the Tokyo metropolitan area that might suit his needs. And of course, he was always welcome to visit when he came home.

When the party died down and everyone had wished him well, Ohno decided it was time to leave. Nino and his girlfriend were still talking with Aiba, and he bid them a good night, heading down the street full of izakayas, back past the car lot and toward his apartment building. But instead of going inside, he kept walking. There was a breeze, but it wasn’t that cold at night now at all.

He made it to the beach, found a bench, and sat down to listen to the sound of the waves rolling in, hitting the shore. It wasn’t going to be calm like this in Tokyo, and he knew that was going to irritate him. But everyone, all of his friends, had already pointed out so many things he was going to like. The captain from one of the boats he went out with often had already called some of his friends who ran chartered excursions in Tokyo. Ohno had no shortage of boats waiting for him when he arrived, and new waters to fish. Work would keep him busy, but it wasn’t like his hobby would be entirely abandoned. He wasn’t going somewhere landlocked at least!

And, of course, he had his “Tokyo senpai” waiting for his arrival. He smiled in the darkness despite himself. She’d been the first person he’d called as soon as he’d hung up with Ishihara-san. Not that he’d told her as much, but she’d been the first person that came to mind. She’d been so excited, so happy for him. It had given him courage.

“Can I keep calling you?” he’d asked her. “Would that be okay?”

The silence that followed had been scary, but her reply had been better than he’d hoped. “I’d like that,” she’d said, her voice almost shy. “I’d like that, Oh-chan.”

It had been a few weeks now, this calling stage. It wasn’t every night, since he still had work and she had plenty to keep her busy too. But it gave him confidence, knowing she was going to be there, in Tokyo. That she didn’t hate him. That he wasn’t going to be alone when he started his new job, that someone had his back. And in calling her, he hoped she realized he was taking this seriously. That he wanted to know everything he’d missed, every little change, everything that made her tick. 

They were just phone calls, sometimes a series of longer emails, but it was so easy to fall again. She was funny, warm, wrote out long lists of things he might like to do when he moved (and things he should avoid, because he was ‘a grumpy old man’). She sent him pictures of the life she’d been having without him. Pictures of Keiko’s cat, curled up on their living room floor. Pictures of the chalkboard in her classroom. A picture of a fish market not far from her apartment building, where she’d snapped a picture of a large tuna and captioned it simply: “a friend for Oh-chan.”

He listened to the waves, eyes closed and smiling. He was way too lucky. He was fairly certain he’d fuck up along the way, would fumble his words, would say the wrong thing. But this time he’d own up to his mistakes. She was worth the effort.

He pulled his phone from his pocket. He’d promised to call when the party was over, but it was already after midnight. Then again, it was a Saturday night. She didn’t have to work in the morning. He decided to be bold, giving her a call.

“A bit late, don’t you think?” she answered, sighing a bit (although she picked up on the second ring).

“Did I wake you?”

“I’m reading,” she said. “I’m at a really good part, too…”

“I’ll make this quick then,” he decided, tapping his fingers nervously on his leg.

“How was the big party? I don’t suppose Nino paid for any of it?”

“He did, actually,” he replied, laughing. “I’m sure he and Aiba-san are still arguing about the bill right now.”

“That sounds about right.” 

He heard a bit of rustling on the other end. Maybe she was setting down her book.

“Hey, Shii-chan?”

“Hmm?”

“Wanna ask you something.”

“Are you drunk?”

He snickered. “Not that much.”

“This isn’t a phone sex call, is it? I charge for that service.”

“It’s not a phone sex call,” he assured her, laughing again. “I’m being serious, you know.”

“You keep giggling, I don’t trust you.”

“Shii-chan.”

She was quiet, and he suspected she was only joking with him to hide her nervousness. He was nervous, too. He wondered if she really knew what he was calling for.

“When I get settled in, I was hoping we could…” He cleared his throat, digging his fingers into his jeans. “I’d like to take you out. Properly. I’d like to date you, I mean.”

She didn’t say anything for quite a while, but since he could still hear her breathing, he knew she was choosing her response carefully. He thought these last weeks had gone well, that this was only the natural conclusion. Maybe he was going too fast for her. He tended to make decisions faster than most people - which had obviously gotten him in trouble before. But he was more certain about this than anything. More certain than he’d even been about the corporate position.

“I’m not interested in casually dating,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “What I’m looking for is something much more serious than that. You understand?”

She was being honest, upfront. She wasn’t going to let him hurt her again, that much was very clear. She was fine with talking to him, with meeting with him, but if it was ever going to be more, it was going to be on her terms. And he understood that. Maybe not fully, since she’d clearly borne the brunt of the pain when they’d broken up the first time. But she’d grown up now. She knew what she wanted and what she didn’t. She wasn’t going to let him slack off this time.

He wondered why he wasn’t afraid, being given such an ultimatum this time around. Months ago, if a woman had made such a demand from him, he’d have bailed without looking back. Now he was petrified in a different way entirely. Petrified of losing this second chance.

“I can’t promise it’ll be perfect,” he said.

“I’m not looking for that,” she replied, her voice wavering a little. As though he was bringing her to tears. Which was, obviously, the last thing he intended.

“I promise that I’ll try my best. You deserve more than that, I know, but…”

“No…Oh-chan…”

“No?” he managed to say, barely able to think.

“I’m not turning you down, you idiot,” she said, and this time there was more confidence in her tone. “I just want you to be fully aware of what you’re agreeing to. This isn’t some easy thing, something to leap into just because it feels right today. I don’t want six months to go by, six years to go by, and for us to have the same conversation we had before. I’m not saying we’re getting married tomorrow and buying a house in a year and having a baby the year after that. I’m not planning your life for you. I just…I just want you to take it seriously or don’t bother at all. I’m turning 30 this year. That’s where I’m at in my life right now. I need someone who wants to have a future. Not someone who’s only interested in today.”

She cleared her throat.

“I don’t want perfect,” she said. “And I don’t want your best effort. I want the future, whatever it holds, with someone who wants to be there with me. Are you that person or not?”

This was not the conversation he’d been expecting when he’d called her. But he knew she was right.

“I think I am.”

“Then I’ll see you in a month, Oh-chan. And you can tell me in person what you think.”

—

She packed up the equipment, doing her best to keep the cords from tangling as she put them back in the box. But it was when she tried to pick up a buzzer from a desk that wasn’t even there that she could hear Sakurai-sensei laughing at her.

He was putting the students’ scratch paper in the recycling bin, smiling wide. “You’re distracted today, Kanjiya-sensei. Tonight must be the night.”

“Huh?” she asked, blushing and trying not to pick up any other phantom buzzers. 

“You should know that Yoshitaka-sensei’s voice tends to carry,” he admitted. “Your secret’s out.”

She felt hot, nearly dropping the box as she carried it to the back of the classroom. Sakurai-sensei only offered her a wave and a “good luck!” before picking up the recycling bin and carrying it from the room. Damn Yoshitaka-sensei, she thought bitterly. That was the last time Shihori told her anything!

Tonight really was the night, though. Her first official “date” with Oh-chan, now that they were “together” again. The thought of that still hadn’t sunk in. He’d finally come up to Tokyo a few weeks ago, although they’d barely had any time alone to talk yet. He was going through some intense training at the company and still getting his new apartment in order. They were mostly surviving on messages through LINE at this point, and most of his were various emoji and stickers of sleepy animals. 

But tonight…tonight he was all hers, and she was nervous as hell. And now it was obvious that most of the faculty knew that Kanjiya-sensei had a date again after a long dry spell. Ugh!

Once the classroom was tidy, she grabbed her bag and headed home to change. Keiko was there, heading out herself for the night on a group date with some folks from another company in her office building. Keiko had her eye on one of them already, had caught him leaving work in a leather jacket once. Right in her strike zone.

“Should I expect you to come home tonight?” Keiko was asking, in between brushing her teeth and rinsing.

She rolled her eyes, frowning at the state of her wardrobe. “We’ll see what happens. I’m taking this very seriously, you know!”

And she really was. She’d been nothing but serious about this. She couldn’t bear the thought of Oh-chan hurting her again, although there was no guarantee that it would work out in the end. Nobody could predict the future, but at the very least, she knew he was going into this with his eyes open, knowing she had certain expectations. Keiko had actually been impressed with Ohno’s recent burst of emotional maturity, although she had vowed that if things went badly this second time around, she really would kill him. Well, Shihori hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

“I know you’re taking this seriously,” Keiko said, lurking in her doorway, grinning. “But I also know how long it’s been and…”

Shihori plugged her ears. “You stalker, what do you even know?” She stomped her feet, knowing that her blush was giving it away. It really had been a while, so she was going to play things by ear. Not that it was any of Keiko’s business!

Keiko came up behind her, hugging her around the middle. “I just want you to be happy.”

She leaned into it, forgiving her anyhow. “I know you do.”

Keiko leaned her head against hers. “There’s still time to come with me. I think one of them’s an accountant. That’s interesting, right?”

She pushed Keiko away, laughing. “Go away and meet your biker gang leader, why don’t you?”

“Daigo-san has a name,” Keiko teased, heading back to her room. “Looks like you get the apartment to yourself, Bill-chan! What a spoiled animal you are!”

Shihori sighed, shaking her head and laughing. It was certainly going to be an interesting night. She and Keiko lived a few Metro stops north of the SkyTree and Oh-chan’s apartment wasn’t far from Nishi-Nippori Station. It amazed her that after all this time, he was only a half-hour away on the train now. Well, when the trains were running on time.

They were going to meet and have dinner at the SkyTree, if only because it was brand new and exciting for Oh-chan, who hadn’t really been to Tokyo since it had been built. She’d seen him a handful of times since he’d moved, but tonight…tonight would be their first serious meeting. But any seriousness vanished in an instant when she saw him approaching with a bouquet of roses.

He had gone to some effort, was in one of his new suits for work, and it made him look his age in a way that his t-shirts and jeans never had. Instead of a grown-up kid, he looked like a man. Handsome, mature…

He thrust the flowers at her, grinning. Always a kid at heart. “For you!”

She accepted them, thinking it was a little over the top. Their dinner was already going to cost a lot, and now roses? What were they going to do with them in the restaurant? But she still couldn’t help the butterflies in her stomach. She couldn’t ever remember him bothering to get her flowers before. Ohno Satoshi in “serious relationship” mode was something amusing to behold.

“Thank you,” she said, enjoying the scent of the bouquet at the very least. It was going to be hard to get them home, especially if Bill decided to munch on them. But she decided not to say anything about it yet. 

They rode the elevator up to the restaurant, and because they were in the rear of the elevator behind other people, he didn’t seem too embarrassed to reach out and take her hand. When he gave it a gentle squeeze, smiling at her shyly, it finally sunk in. They were together. She and Oh-chan. Together for real. She blinked back tears, if only because she’d look like a sad panda if she let her mascara smear so early on in the evening.

Neither of them were fancy restaurant types, and she was grateful they’d been seated at one of the far tables, away from the judgmental eyes of other diners. Their waiter hadn’t even blinked at Shihori’s bouquet, offering to find a vase for it. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing when the roses were returned and ended up taking up half of the table.

“Maybe I should have held off on buying those,” Ohno mumbled, trying to decipher the set meal course they were about to eat.

The food was excellent, although Shihori suspected that most of the fancy ingredients were lost on Ohno, who seemed to treat every new dish with suspicion. He was more interested in eating the food than in enjoying its presentation. But despite that, he seemed to like everything, which was something Shihori doubted would ever change.

Unlike their last dinner together, the family restaurant in Akiba, she discovered that they were both a little too nervous to talk. Instead they went through an entire bottle of wine, making small talk here and there about work in between glancing out at the lights of Tokyo far below them. She saw Ohno’s eyebrows spike upward when the bill came, but he didn’t voice a complaint, simply pulling out his wallet. She knew he was making a lot more money now, though she hadn’t asked just how much.

She reached for her purse, and he gave her a dirty look, wiggling his finger at her. “Your money’s no good tonight.” 

Roses, reservations at the fancy SkyTree restaurant. Didn’t he know she wasn’t looking for that sort of thing? Then again, she never had, back then. Maybe he thought he owed it to her to try something bolder. To prove his commitment, his interest in her.

The vase vanished from the table, and the roses were returned, wrapped up once again, although not as neatly as the florist had done. “I really should have held off on buying those,” he grumbled, and she laughed out loud at that, grateful they were back in the elevator and leaving the restaurant by then.

They made it to the ground again, and she wondered what else he had in mind. What she didn’t expect was for him to turn to her, sighing in exasperation. “That food was good but I’m still hungry. You wanna get some ice cream?”

She adjusted the wrapped up flowers in her arms, gaping at him. “Ice cream? We just had a dessert course…”

“We don’t have to,” he mumbled. “I just…”

She smiled in realization. “You thought we’d be at the restaurant a lot longer and didn’t plan anything else, did you?”

He scowled at her, though it wasn’t meant seriously. “You know me too well, it’s scary.”

She stepped forward, running her fingers across the lapels of his suit jacket. “It was a lovely dinner. Thank you.” She grinned. “I’m not used to seeing you look so well-to-do. You’re so cute.”

He looked annoyed. “You were like this about that stupid tuxedo too. I don’t like these things.”

She slid her hand inward, brushing against his tie. “Ooh, I think I’ll like it even more now that I know it annoys you.”

He shook his head. “What a brat you are.”

She stepped back, taking another smell of her roses. “Changing your mind about me already, Oh-chan? How fickle.”

He didn’t seem to care if anyone saw, because he reached for her then, putting his hand around her waist, pulling her to him. “The last thing I plan to do is change my mind about you.”

She could feel the palm of his hand, warm and insistent against the small of her back. “So cool,” she whispered, only joking a little bit. She liked this new Oh-chan, in his suits, with his willingness to touch her. An Oh-chan who could say things like “the last thing I plan to do is change my mind about you” with a straight face. And actually mean it, too.

He probably hadn’t intended to be so forceful, and he had a hard time meeting her eyes now. It had been a very long time since they’d been close like this, and Shihori knew where things were headed now. They’d been flirting, over the phone and through LINE for a little too long to not follow through. And though Shihori hadn’t truly anticipated it happening so soon, feeling the press of his body against hers again after so many years felt too good to ignore. She’d gotten the impression that he hadn’t been with anyone in a while either.

“Come back with me?” he asked. All she could do was nod. So much for the SkyTree now.

She felt like she was floating when he released her, but took hold of her hand. They walked to the train, and he only let her go once they boarded the car. Her roses at least gave them a barrier from being smashed together with the other passengers.

He took her hand again when they got off at his stop. She was in heels, and he was walking a little faster than she’d like, but she couldn’t bear to slow down. It was Oh-chan, the sweet Oh-chan who’d always stroked her hair and kissed her nose, falling asleep with her on his couch. The Oh-chan who made her a sleeping bag fort and gave her beef jerky to eat. But it was also a new Oh-chan, who wore suits and held her hand in public. The Oh-chan who’d turned his life upside down, the Oh-chan who was falling in love with her all over again, and right before her eyes. And god, she wanted him so much.

They were maybe a block away from his new place, away from the main road, when he finally stopped pulling her along with him. He stopped them under a street light, and he turned around to look at her. There was none of the usual sleepiness in his eyes. He was looking at her like there was nothing else that mattered. “Shii-chan, I swear I wanted to do this right.”

Her feet were throbbing a little, now that they stopped moving. “It’s okay, there’s no right or wrong.” She took a deep breath, looking up at him. She was glad she hadn’t worn her stiletto heels. They’d have made them the same height, but at what cost to her feet? “We’re only human, right?”

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered. “I’ve missed you, Shii-chan.”

It felt so perfect when he took her face between his slightly rough, but gentle hands. He stroked her cheek with his thumb and smiled. “I’m so glad you came home.” Home. Minamichita. If she hadn’t gone, she’d never be here, in Tokyo, standing here with him under the street light’s glow.

She didn’t care as much about her mascara now. He kissed her and though she’d spent the last several weeks remembering what had been, what they’d done, what had been so special to her before, she was ready to embrace this new chapter. Why compare with before? This was good. This was better. He was so warm, so close, and if she wasn’t holding the silly roses, she’d throw her arms around him. He kissed her like it was just the two of them in the world. Not like they’d planned, waiting out the zombie apocalypse at Everything Outdoor. A new feeling entirely, her at the center of his world, and when tears trickled from her eyes, met his thumbs, he only kissed her harder.

“Come on,” he finally said, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “Come on.”

He held out his hand, and she was already missing him, licking her lips and knowing everything was just beginning.

—

He’d known it was hopeless as soon as he’d walked up to her with that bouquet, seeing her in her sexy purple dress. It had been a difficult meal to get through, and not just because the portions were bizarre and he didn’t know what half the fancy ingredients were. Because he’d had to sit there for an hour and watch her bring food to her mouth, over and over again while he thought about something that wasn’t food-related at all. As soon as they’d gotten back to the ground, he knew he was going to try and bulldoze any plans she’d had for how things were going to progress between them.

She’d been a virgin when they’d gotten together the first time. He’d been all too happy to wait until she was ready. He’d wanted to do right by her. But there was nothing innocent about her now, not with the way she’d been poking at his suit jacket, prodding at his tie. They were both adults now, who knew what they wanted.

Kissing her, feeling her soft mouth against his own again, had felt so right. She was crying, but this time he knew it wasn’t because he’d done anything wrong. If anything, he was finally doing something right. His building was three stories, and he was on the second floor. “Wait,” she was saying before he started racing up the stairs. “Just…wait, let me take these off.”

He grinned, watching her take off her shoes, holding them in one hand and the stupid bouquet in the other. She followed him up the stairs, and he was shaking as he got his new keys out of his pocket, still learning just how things worked. But he managed to get the door open. He held it open, letting her slip inside. She dropped her shoes in his genkan with little grace, walking a little gingerly into his living room and setting the flowers down on his table. The place was still kind of a mess. He still had shelves to put up, clothes to unpack, kitchen stuff to put away. But at least he’d taken out the trash before heading to meet her, had put fresh towels in the bathroom, and had put new sheets on the bed. Just in case he’d gotten this lucky.

But they didn’t leave the living room for a while. He didn’t even turn on the light, pushing her back against the wall and kissing her again. Now that she wasn’t burdened with the flowers, she was letting him know once again that she liked him in boring salaryman clothes, slowly undoing the buttons of his jacket, tugging him closer by yanking on his tie. Had she always been this aggressive? He was so lost, so involved with letting his tongue slip into the heat of her mouth that he couldn’t even remember.

When she’d had enough of his tie, she yanked on the knot, pulling it off and throwing it aside. He let his fingers tangle up in her hair, trying not to laugh when she put her hands behind him and squeezed his ass. She’d always been a fan. And he had always been a fan of her breasts. He’d spent half their dinner that night trying to sneak a look. Now he was fairly certain he’d get to replace his memories with the real thing. The longer they were like this, the more dangerous it was becoming. His body was switching from some semblance of reason into instinct mode, and if they didn’t slow down, he was going to just pull her dress up and see if she’d object to having sex right there, right in the middle of his living room in the dark.

But Shihori’s logical side saved him from doing anything so rough, and the palms of her hands pressed gently against his chest, pushing him back. He could only hear her in the darkness, her heavy breaths as she collected herself. “Okay,” she exhaled, gathering her wits. “Okay okay okay.”

“Here, the bathroom’s this way,” he managed to say. He led her to it, and the both of them groaned a bit when he turned on the light.

She turned around, putting her back to him. “Unzip?”

She held her hair up, exposing the soft, pale skin of her neck. He wanted to kiss her there, feel her shiver. It took every ounce of willpower he had to just concentrate, to get his fingers to gently tug on the zipper on the back of her dress when what he really wanted to do was yank it down, move things right along. He behaved himself, letting her take a quick shower without his impulsive interference.

He paced his bedroom floor, trying not to second guess himself. This was happening. She came out, wrapped in a towel and looking even more nervous than he felt. All he could do was gesture to his bed, smiling nervously. He showered quickly, begging himself to relax. Being with Shihori, it had always been so easy, but there was more to it now. She deserved his full attention.

She was still in the towel when he came back out, looking a little lost. He hovered in the doorway. “We don’t…we don’t have to…”

She looked aside, blushing. “I gained weight…not a lot but…I mean, I don’t look like I used to.”

He didn’t dare laugh, walking over to the bed and sitting down. He didn’t exactly have the same body he’d had seven years ago either. “Shii-chan, believe me. You’re beautiful. I wouldn’t lie about that.”

She was lying down, shaking a little. “I don’t…I wish I wasn’t self-conscious…it’s not an easy habit to break…”

He reached his hand out, brushing his fingers along her bare shoulder, along her collarbone where the tips of her hair just about reached. She shut her eyes, inhaling sharply at his touch. How long had it been since anyone had touched her? Not that he wanted to imagine it…

“Here,” he mumbled, finding where her hands were still holding the towel closed. She relented, and he slowly pulled it open. He didn’t have one complaint about what he found. And he discovered that her body was so much better than what he remembered. He bent down, feeling her shiver when he pressed his lips to one of her breasts, happy to reacquaint himself. Her nipples hardened the more he paid attention. 

He didn’t rush, much as he wanted to. If she wasn’t confident, he decided to prove that she was perfect in his eyes. He kissed her once, twice, before moving down, eventually kissing his way past her breasts, down her abdomen, around her navel in soft, little pecks that made her sigh. She hesitated a bit when he moved between her legs, but he pressed a kiss to her thigh.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, enjoying that the way her body was shaking now wasn’t so much from nerves as it was from what he was doing to her. “It’s okay, I want to.”

And though Shihori had always been a talkative person (well, to Ohno, everyone was talkative), she’d always been quiet when it came to voicing her pleasure. Most of the time she actually put her hand over her mouth, muffling the sound as though it embarrassed her. That much hadn’t changed, and it made him smile. So instead he listened to her breathing as it grew heavier, delighted in the little gasps and sighs she couldn’t manage to keep in. And when he finally moved his mouth inward, from the soft, perfect feeling of her thighs to her center, she even let out a gasped “Satoshi!” in surprise.

First names. Well, he must have been doing a good job. It was everything he remembered and even better, the taste of her on his tongue and the scratch of her fingernails across his scalp as she rested her hand on his head, probably fighting her need to push his head down, to beg for more and more. It didn’t actually take long before she was coming, muffling the sound needlessly with her hand. One of these days, Ohno decided, one of these days he’d have to be so good she’d forget to hide it. He wanted to hear her just give in and scream.

She seemed surprised that he wasn’t finished quite yet, moving to lie alongside her but keeping his hand between her legs, slowly sinking a finger inside her. She was so warm, as good as he remembered, and he stroked inside her, knowing she hadn’t been with anyone in a while. “You don’t have to keep your eyes closed the whole time,” he teased her, and she looked over, still flushed from what he’d done to her.

“You’re being…” She bit back a sigh, eyes widening when he quickened his pace. “You’re being very…gentlemanly tonight, Oh-chan.”

“I wear a suit now,” he reminded her. “I’m all about that gentleman stuff.”

This, at last, made her laugh, and she kissed the top of his head. “I love you, you know.”

This warmed him, from head to toe. Words like that, they used to scare guys like him. But hearing it from her, it felt good. It felt amazing. He finally gave in, crawling across the mattress to his nightstand, where he’d stuffed a new box of condoms, feeling hopeful for tonight. When he was ready, he stroked her cheek, tugging on a strand of her hair. “I love you too, Shihori.”

As soon as he was inside her, he knew there could be nothing better. He took it slow, for her sake more than his own, and though she was tense at first, readjusting to the sensation, she was eventually able to relax. 

“Okay?” he whispered, pressing a kiss against the side of her neck.

“Okay,” she agreed.

Shihori wasn’t the only one out of practice, and to his irritation, he didn’t give the world’s greatest performance. All it took was a gasp from her at one particularly hard thrust, her hands pressed to his back, the slightest raise of her hips in time with his own, and he had to give in. Well, thank god he’d started by getting her off first, sighing as he lay there, breathing hard and just hoping it wasn’t a total letdown.

She stroked his back, humming a little. “Missed that.”

“You missed _that_?”

She chuckled, a low and satisfied little laugh that made her shake a bit under him. “You know what I mean.”

He finally gave her a break, moving off of her to clean himself up. He waited in the doorway and definitely didn’t miss the way she was checking him out appreciatively, the bedsheets pulled up and over her body, hiding it away again. “I definitely missed your butt,” she said, smiling at him.

He turned, letting her enjoy the full experience. “Just for you.”

“Bravo!”

He grinned, not feeling self-conscious at all. It was easier than he thought, falling back into this rhythm with her. “I’ll be in my usual place.”

She sat up a little, holding the sheet against her. “The couch? Still?”

“Mattress is new, you enjoy it.”

“Oh-chan…”

He closed the door anyhow. He wanted to know if she’d still try. If she still remembered.

It took a few hours, because he fell completely asleep, but before too long he felt someone tugging at the blanket. He moved easily. It was like muscle memory, letting her lie down with him. He adjusted the blanket to cover them both. When he moved to touch her hair, the way he always had, he instead found her fingers pressing one of the condoms from his drawer into his hand.

This woke him up, considerably. “You serious?” he whispered, voice groggy.

She turned, a little awkwardly given the amount of space they had to share. When she kissed him, she ran her hand down his side, tickling a bit until she reached his hip, rubbing in time with her kisses.

“Very serious,” she whispered.

“Gotta work in the morning.”

“Me too.”

“Gonna blame you. When I’m tired.”

“You bought me roses,” she said quietly. “That gets you two times, I think.”

“Damn, I’ll remember that.”

“Ssh, come on.” 

Didn’t take much more prompting. Though his bed was certainly more comfortable for all involved, it seemed she wanted to rechristen their old couch ritual. Or more like she wanted to enhance it, adding sex to the equation. And who was Ohno to turn down a pretty woman who liked his butt? He lay on his back, and it felt so good when she got on top of him, guiding him into her. It was so good, even with the more limited range of movement his couch afforded them. He liked the weight of her on top of him, the way she took his hands, guided them to her hips, to hold her while she rocked against him. He squeezed gently, biting his lip as his body responded more and more. 

“Satoshi,” she was whispering, “oh Satoshi, please.”

Before too long, he was giving in, moving his hands up to her breasts, squeezing. She liked that, gasping the more he did it. When she collapsed against him later, breathing hard but giggling, he hugged her. He loved her, and he really loved how much she wanted him.

He held her close, knowing he had to get up, but not wanting to leave her just yet. “Wow, I’m so glad I moved here.”

“Mmm, me too.”

“Next time, let’s skip the expensive dinner.”

“Sounds perfectly reasonable to me.”

He smiled. His new job was hard, moving to a new city was hard. But was it bad? Not really. Especially when he had her by his side. Change wasn’t scary, Ohno decided. Change was very good.

—

Six months later

—

The ride to Mihama was nerve-wracking, if only because she was driving Mao-chan’s car, and it was a stick shift. Oh-chan had spent most of the ride complaining about her terrible driving. Well, he was the person who was nearly 35 years old and had never gotten a license. Who was he to pass judgment on her ability?

Their arguments ended, of course, when they pulled into the parking lot. Even though she moved to unlock the door and get out, he grabbed hold of her hand, squeezing. “You sure you still want to do this?”

She nodded, more sure than ever now that the lighthouse was in sight. “I’m certain.”

They’d taken the train down for the weekend. To visit with Mao and Jun, to have some strange snacks at Peking Duck with Nino and Aiba. And for this, though they hadn’t told anyone else about it.

She popped the trunk, and she grabbed the clippers that Keiko’s mother had let her borrow. The official story was that she and Ohno were doing some work in his parents’ garden. Instead they had actually come to say goodbye to the past, as lofty as that sounded.

He walked behind her, and the wind whipped her hair around. It was autumn now, and as different from her last visit as it could get. She found it far more quickly than she had on her last visit to the lighthouse, crouching down and holding it out for Ohno’s inspection.

He took a look at it, smiling. “I can’t believe it’s still here.”

“We don’t need it. I’d rather not rely on outside forces any longer.”

Initially he’d thought she meant to attach a new lock. But then she’d told him she wanted to cut it off. “You’re breaking up with me?” he’d asked, eyes wide. She’d shaken her head. No. She just didn’t think they needed it. They had something new, something special. It was a lot more work than it had been when they were younger, their relationship, but in a way, it was more rewarding. They didn’t need a lock on a fence to strengthen their love. They just needed each other, and the will to try.

He held it steady, and she clipped through the U-shape of the lock, detaching it from the fence. She turned it over in her palm, setting the clippers down and tracing over their names. They’d been naive back then, uncertain. Eager to let fate, luck, all the forces of the universe influence where their relationship was going. They didn’t need it. Clipping away the old Ohno and Kanjiya, she knew she could truly embrace the new chapter of her life. The better one, where her eyes were open and so were his. Where they faced everything together.

She got to her feet. “What are you doing?” he called after her.

“Throwing it in the sea!”

“That’s pollution, isn’t it? Throw it in a garbage can!” he complained.

“There’s no drama in that,” she complained, turning around and walking back to him. “You’re no fun.”

“I guess not,” he mumbled, moving over and tugging her close. There was a gentle love in his eyes when he pushed her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around his neck when he kissed her, with a forcefulness that still made her weak in the knees.

But he was still Oh-chan too. She felt his arm go up, reaching behind his head for her hand. He pried the lock from her fingers and broke away before she could even react. She watched him take off running.

“Sucker!” he called.

“Oi!” she shouted. “Oi, no fair! I was going to throw it!”

“My arm’s stronger! I’m going to throw it all the way to Kyushu!”

“You’re an idiot!”

She watched him bring his arm back, saw the lock go flying off into the air. She stopped running, shaking her head and laughing. It was gone, lost under the waves. How petty! He came back, looking rather satisfied with himself.

“You’re going to be 35 years old.”

He shrugged. “It was fun.”

This time she kissed him, not letting go until she heard the sound of another car come rumbling up the gravel drive toward the lighthouse. He took her hand, squeezing tight. 

They walked off together, hand in hand, into a future they’d shape by themselves.


End file.
